CLEAR WATERS 



grass. Llyn Carw may possibly cover two acres. 

 Nearly half of it, however, is hopelessly shallow, with 

 a fine gravel bottom, while the remainder resembles 

 a big bog-hole. It was a drear, dull, and cold Sep- 

 tember afternoon. Llyn Carw, moreover, is a gloomy 

 tarn, and a chill ripple puffed over its surface. One 

 really needs a companion on its banks. I felt almost 

 * creepy ' as I mounted my tackle, though it seemed 

 superfluous to cast a fly for sulky minnow-feeding 

 pounders under such conditions. To my great sur- 

 prise, however, I saw of a sudden the head and shoul- 

 ders of a large fish pop noiselessly up in a businesslike 

 fashion towards the middle of the tarn. By wading 

 in up to my knees, and letting out as much line as I 

 could throw, I found I could just reach the spot. 

 He took me at the very first offer, and ran straight 

 across the pool, and then well, perhaps the gut 

 of the claret and mallard was frayed ; perhaps the 

 knot had been a carelessly tied one, and pulled. It 

 was a hopeless-looking evening, conducive, I fear, 

 to carelessness in preliminaries, though that was no 

 excuse. Anyway, he broke me with a tug that a 

 quarter-pounder could have delivered, which was 

 grievous, as not another sign of life showed itself upon 

 the desolate tarn, though I flogged it all hard. Such 

 was my sole and sad experience of Llyn Carw. 



Some thirty to forty fish in all are caught here in 

 most years, roughly averaging a pound. Strangers, 

 however, rarely make the toilsome pilgrimage. Nor, 

 again, do they get to the much larger natural tarns, 

 the twin lakes of Cerig-llwydion. These are four 

 miles up hill over the rough, pathless moors from the 

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