66 In Pursuit of the Trout 



interrupt your communings with Nature. 

 The sedge-warbler is good company, though 

 he may for a while sing at you suspiciously 

 from the river-side thickets. You may sink 

 down now and then on some tangled island and 

 watch for rises under the gnarled willows and 

 great dock-leaves. It does not matter if you 

 wait an hour without seeing the faintest ring 

 on the water. You are attuning your heart 

 and brain to the glorious harmony of summer. 

 The fardels of life will drop from you, and be 

 swept away on the stream. These are the 

 hours in our lives — alas that they are so few ! 

 — which no good man dare call wasted. 



I cannot to this day recall without emotion 

 a struggle I had with a big trout in one of the 

 most romantic spots of the Derbyshire Wye. 

 On a still evening, when there is nothing 

 to speak of moving in the open stream, I 

 occasionally repair to a certain island, on 

 which one may land when the water is low 

 by means of some rough and rather rickety 

 stepping-stones. This island is densely 

 wooded, and in summer-time it has, by way 



