36 CATCHING THE WILY SEA-TROUT 



has the reach for his sole enjoyment, otherwise the thread- 

 liner is a nuisance to his fellows. He then is on a par 

 with a " rabbit " on a golf course who, by his footling, 

 holds up all the other players, but in that contingency 

 you can relieve yourself by shouting " fore." 



Some years ago I was, with half a dozen other fisher- 

 men, trying for bass from a bridge that spans an estuary. 

 We were float-fishing and were doing nicely until the 

 advent of a man with a threadline outfit. This fresh 

 arrival soon found himself engaged with a pugnacious 

 bass weighing a trifle over six pounds. But what a 

 commotion ensued. To and fro, forwards and back- 

 wards, the hooked one raced and splashed, gathering 

 first one and then another of the drifting tackles belonging 

 to the helpless anglers. Ultimately, after some relevant, 

 albeit forcible, remarks from the aggrieved ones, the 

 threadliner left the bridge for a more convenient stance 

 on the bankside and managed to coax his quarry ashore. 

 By this time the remainder of us had, in disgust, packed 

 our rods and gear, leaving the modernist in undisputed 

 occupation. 



As another sidelight, and a new one on threadlining, 

 I cannot do better than to quote the original and spon- 

 taneous views of an expert salmon and sea-trout fisher, 

 a man who, on English and Scotch waters, is noted for 

 his extraordinary ability with the rod. In the course of 

 a fishing trip along a river-bank, during the past month, 

 I met the skilled one just as he had grassed a beautiful 

 fresh-run cock salmon of thirty odd pounds, and jokingly 

 I asked him if his success was due to threadlining. 

 " Threadlining be damned !"" he answered, and con- 

 tinued, " I've given the idea a proper trial, but I consider 

 that it is a brutal and cruel method. I shoot and fish, 

 and although I am everlastingly killing God's creatures, 

 I do so as mercifully as possible. See that fish. Well, 



