IIO CATCHING THE WILY SEA-TROUT 



Having struck and played your fish, there is yet one 

 more highly important detail which demands unfailing 

 heed, and that is a merciful and prompt despatch of the 

 victim. Some anglers are so thoughtless that I offer no 

 excuse for referring to this understandable necessity. Do 

 not allow a fish to gasp and expire on the river bank, 

 but give it a crack with a stick across its neck. A smart 

 blow delivered in the right place, even with a small stick, 

 will perform the deed expeditiously. 



A short while ago I was intent on extracting a fly 

 from a fair-sized sea-trout which I had killed with the 

 aid of a boxwood ruler, when I was interrupted by a 

 voice, " Shouldn't 'ave thort 'er wude 'ave snuffed 'er." 

 Looking up I saw old Bill fingering my ruler. I must 

 explain that William, affectionately described by all and 

 sundry as old Bill, is a confirmed poacher. Birds and 

 fish are all the same to him, and he cannot keep his 

 hands off them. He does not spoil for gain, as he places 

 far less value on money than he does on snaring the wild ; 

 while a bird or a bit of " red hake " often finds its way 

 gratuitously into a home of the needy. Old Bill is not 

 a throw-back, as his proclivity is bred in the bone, for 

 his father was a notorious poacher. Not infrequently 

 William's father had to appear before the bench to answer 

 a charge of having unlawfully taken a salmon, but the 

 old man was never perturbed by these proceedings. When 

 the case was completed and a fine announced, the old 

 man would invariably say " Thank 'ee, gentlmun. 'Er 

 came owt o' river/' referring to the salmon, and he would 

 add in all seriousness regarding the fine, ' An* 'er 'ull 

 come owt o' river tu." 



So far old Bill has escaped the unpleasant notice of 

 the keepers, both fish and game, but perhaps he is more 

 covert in his actions than was his father. He is usually 

 on the river bank, and he knows the lies of most fish. 



