62 IN THE VALE OF 



trout was in the rivulet, a yard or two wide with 

 another bunch of weeds, and the main stream 

 between me and him ; there he was, plainly 

 enough to be seen, quietly hanging on to my 

 collar, and that swung round the stem. I held 

 on, my hook held the trout, the flag held the 

 gut, and for me to pull was only to risk rod, 

 line, collar, and all. My trout settled the matter 

 at last by making a tremendous plunge, leaving 

 a large part of his lip firmly attached to my hook 

 and himself at glorious liberty. 



After that time the weather set in dead 

 against us a cold, sometimes bitterly cold, 

 north-east wind blew aslant and down the 

 stream and faced a blazing sun. There is very 

 little stream in our water it mostly runs dead 

 and slow, and as transparent as glass ; we could 

 almost read a newspaper on the gravel. There 

 were the big trout, floating double, trout and 

 shadow, their shadows so plainly outlined on 

 the sunless side as to make one think they were 

 a brace. Useless to cast over them ever so 

 daintily ; rather aggravating as well as amusing 

 to see a big trout come up to your fly, examine 

 it critically, and allow it to pass on. I found 

 that when he had made this critical examina- 



