XIV 

 A GRAYLING DAY 



THERE is no word in the language for 

 the silent, sliding flow of a large chalk- 

 stream. Running water has its charms for 

 many besides the fly-fisher, but for him the 

 greatest charm of all, and some day, perhaps, 

 will be fulfilled my remaining ambition in life, 

 to spend a whole year in fishing. January will 

 find me casting a wagtail bait for pike in this 

 stream farther down its course, where there 

 are but few trout, and war is not waged upon 

 other fishes with net and with wire, as it 

 is here. February and March shall be spent 

 in the North of Scotland, " up the strath " of 

 the spring salmon river of which I know every 

 pool. There I shall see again the wonderful 

 variety of bird-life and hear the long-drawn 

 note of tha curlew, that most healing note in 

 nature. April in North Devon by Taw or 

 Torridge, wading and fishing wet for small trout, 

 and wondering at the beauty of the woodlands, 



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