A MOORLAND TARN 177 



tremulous fingers, attached the ends of the fifteen 

 yards of gut to the ends of our two reel lines, I 

 stole round the margin to the farther shore, amid 

 hummocks of bog-myrtle and peat, the while the 

 reels spun out the line as the distance between the 

 conspirators widened. Then, being on opposite 

 sides of the tarn, distant from each other may be a 

 hundred yards or thereby, we began to draw the 

 flies slowly along the surface of the water. 



Bang ! he has it : a good thumper too, and we 

 begin to play him in concert. 



Alas ! for the best-laid plans. The trout had not 

 made more than a couple of somersaults when one 

 of the casting lines parted, and he was free. I, to 

 keep the unmanageable length of line from the 

 bottom, began running backwards over the moor, 

 and presently plunged headlong into a wet moss 

 hole. However, to cut this long yarn short, and 

 make a clean breast of it, damages were soon re- 

 paired, the same tactics were renewed, and by this 

 nefarious device some very good trout were landed. 

 They were as dark as tench, but beautifully shaped, 

 and proved on the table as sweet as if their skins 

 had shown the lustre of gold and rubies. 



