iv A BRACE OF TENCH 67 



another period of inaction, during which 

 the sun gathers power and height, and gives 

 promise of another piping-hot day. About 

 half-past six the float stirs again, and pres- 

 ently glides off as it did before. The 

 angler strikes and is fast in a second tench. 

 But this time there is no holding the fish, 

 which moves irresistibly across the pool into 

 the weeds opposite. The line is kept tight 

 in the hope of bringing it out again, but it 

 soon becomes apparent either that the tench 

 is curiously inactive or that, in some way 

 understood by fish but never intelligible to 

 men, it has transferred the hook from its 

 mouth to the toughest piece of weed it can 

 find. And so it proves. Much pulling in 

 different directions has no result, and at last 

 the hook-link breaks. 



That fish, the angler reflects ruefully, as 

 he puts on a new hook, was undoubtedly a 

 four-pounder at the least. The strain he 

 applied must have turned anything smaller, 

 and it is doubtful whether another big one 

 will bite, for the sun is now on the water. 

 However, there is still an hour and a half 

 before breakfast, so the float and a new hook 

 are swung out once more. Oddly enough, 



