76 MOSTLY ABOUT TROUT 



creep up to within a few yards of the spot, spread 

 a mackintosh on a fairly dry little hummock, 

 recline thereon, and light a pipe, awaiting 

 further developments. Nothing happens for 

 five minutes, which seem like an hour; then 

 another dimple, followed a few seconds later 

 by another in the same place. I measure the 

 distance by a cast well to one side, and then 

 try for him. An eddy of wind takes the fine 

 gut round in a loop, luckily well below him. 

 Then a lucky cast above him and a foot to one 

 side, the stream taking the fly in the right 

 direction. He has it ! At least, that was the 

 obvious deduction, but all I knew was that 

 there was a terrific strain on the line. The 

 water is deep here four or five feet and the 

 trout bores down to the bottom and stays there. 

 I keep below him, putting on all the strain 

 that I dare. He keeps on a steady course 

 down-stream, with occasional turns up-stream, 

 tearing line off the reel, which I take care not 

 to touch, thinking of the fine gut point, until 

 I can recover the line inch by inch. Twice he 

 makes for a hole under a tree root on the opposite 

 bank, a spot that I know well, probably his 

 home when not feeding, and I haul at him as 

 strongly as I dare and get him away from danger 

 to my gut. The water is slightly coloured by 



