HOOKING MY FIRST SALMON. 37 



the leaves of a tattered song-book : in the same deposi- 

 tory he has some silk, dyed mohair, a hare's ear, and a 

 few feathers from the cock, brown turkey, and mallard ; 

 and these simple materials furnish him with most efficient 

 flies, but he requires a bright day to fabricate them, as 

 his sight is indifferent. 



It required much persuasion and a positive assurance 

 of success, before I ventured with my kinsman to the river. 

 Ten minutes' easy walking brought us to a noble pool 

 above the wear, where my friend never fails to kill a 

 salmon, if the wind be westerly and the water not too 

 low. The water was in beautiful order, and my cousin 

 insisted that under his direction I should once more 

 try my fortune with the fishing-rod. Discarding my 

 gaudy flies with a malediction upon the knaves who 

 tied them, he affixed two of his upon the casting-line ; 

 and nothing could be of a simpler character than those 

 selected from his book. The tail-fly was a plain black 

 and orange mohair body, with a long and pointed turkey- 

 feather wing ; the dropper was formed of blue and 

 scarlet wool, ribbed with silver, a pheasant sprit for legs, 

 and mixed wings of the turkey and mallard. 



I made several unsuccessful casts : "A bad look-out, 

 friend Julius. Heaven forfend that the cook has placed 

 any dependence on the angle ! " Again I tried the pool, 

 and, like all disappointed fishermen, began to prog- 

 nosticate a change of weather. " I had remarked 

 mares' tails in the sky yesterday evening, and there was 

 rain overhead, for a hundred ! " My cousin smiled ; 

 when suddenly my nebulous speculations were inter- 

 rupted by a deep, sluggish roll at the dropper. '' Mona- 

 mondiaoul ! "* exclaimed Mortien Beg,\ as he caught 



* An Irish imprecation. f lyittle Martin. 



