104 CATCHING THE WILY SEA-TROUT 



you must console yourself with the thought that the 

 sea-trout have run farther upstream ; not a very satisfy- 

 ing deduction, I admit, but if on every occasion that you 

 went fishing for sea-trout you hauled out the fish without 

 limitation, you would soon come to the conclusion that 

 angling is not much of a sport. Believe me, the fascina- 

 tion of the pastime rests in its uncertainty. When you 

 realise that you have to pit your initiative and imagina- 

 tion against the wiles of a cute but worthy opponent, 

 you will appreciate to the full the value of ultimate 

 success. 



If time permits and you have the option of other 

 pools, you can wander on buoyed with an angler's un- 

 appeasable hope. Should you eventually return empty 

 handed, do not be unduly disappointed, as there are 

 nights when the sea-trout seem to suffer from labour 

 troubles and go on strike. 



One year, when I was in the habit of taking my aire- 

 dales for a last run at night, I made a point of walking 

 to a bridge which crosses a perfect pool for sea-trout. 

 My arrival at that bridge was regularly at about ten 

 o'clock, and I made a custom of scrutinizing the water 

 on every visit. When the moon was shining brightly 

 I never saw a fish turn and the pool appeared to be dead. 

 When the nights were dark, or the blackness was relieved 

 by a faint light from the stars, the plops were numerous 

 and continuous. If a very fine rain was falling, no 

 slackening in the jumps was noticeable, but on nights 

 when heavy rain hissed on the water, there was ostensibly 

 nothing doing. When the air was balmy during a dark 

 night movement in the pool reached its maximum, but 

 when a chilliness in the atmosphere suggested that a 

 buttoned jacket would be a wise precaution, the plops 

 were infrequent. If a thick white mist obscured the 

 water I heard not a sound. 



