A FAVORITE FLY, 297 



exploring had led me the day before, the water tumbled 

 over some rocks, making a fall of six or seven feet, and 

 then expanded into a broad, sullen pool, with a disturbed 

 but slow current down its centre covered with patches of 

 foam. Soon my rod was together and an old favorite fly 

 added to my stretcher, whose performance was frequently 

 on previous occasions satisfactory. This fly has no name 

 that I am aware of ; in fact, I go so far as to imagine my- 

 self the inventor ; but, whether my title is good or not to 

 this honor, I will give its description, pro bono publico : 

 Wings from the wing-feathers of the bustard (a bird now 

 to be found in quantity only on the steppes of Southern 

 Russia or Tartary; in plumage and color it much resem- 

 bles the wild turkey, whose feathers, I have no doubt, 

 would answer equally well), with a few strands of the 

 scarlet macaw or ibis mixed with it. Body of two colors, 

 equally divided ; upper portion of dark blue mohair, lower 

 of gingery red, a red hackle round the lower portions of 

 the body, and a black round the upper. A baud of silver 

 tinsel if for a bright day, and gold if for a dark one, wrap- 

 ped carefully and regularly between the hackles ; the whole 

 terminating with a scarlet tail, either of ibis or worsted 

 the latter I prefer. To say that this fly has not been tried 

 previously might be deemed presumptuous ; but this I will 

 say, that when I first made it I had no pattern, neither did 

 I try to copy any thing I had seen. I have used it in many 

 waters, and invariably with success, although I am aware 

 that frequently what is found most deadly on some streams 

 is totally ineffective in a neighboring one. 



My fly being on, and the cast well stretched, I commenced 

 operations, and at the third throw rose a heavy fish without 

 pricking him. However, I thought I would move down and 

 return when I had got to the bottom of the pool, and offer 

 his excellency another chance. At the fifth throw I rose 



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