82 ON THE WYE 



face, no bird on its bushy banks. There are 

 salmon in plenty doubtless, and plenty of pike 

 and perch, and the usual run of coarse fish, but 

 of trout there are very few. It is not the sort 

 of stream that I should care to waste my time 

 by fly-fishing it. It is said to be partly pre- 

 served, but there are no water-bailiffs here- 

 abouts, and anybody can fish who pleases with- 

 out much fear of being interfered with. Those 

 who do fish, I presume, are the local knowing 

 ones, who fix themselves in cosy corners and 

 fish for perch where they know they are to be 

 found. 



After starting, a pair of twin-sisters, in 

 " Gloomy Plinlimmon," and wandering through 

 many a county far apart, the Wye and Severn 

 meet again Chepstow way, to be absorbed in 

 the " Severn Sea." 



I was curious to estimate roughly the speed 

 of this lordly river hereabouts. It seemed to 

 me that the great mass of water moved, like a 

 stream of molten silver, at the rate of, say, three 

 miles an hour, and as I take it to be about forty 

 miles to its junction with the Severn, the 

 water passing me now will not get into the sea 

 for probably twenty hours from this time. I 



