MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



views of their own on the subject of flies. The even- 

 ing was spent in fishing yarns, in which the landlord 

 took a prominent part. 



Next morning, soon after daybreak, armed with a 

 ten-foot split-cane fly-rod and a cast of three Brob- 

 dignagian flies, I was taken to a causeway between 

 the ponds at the head of the stream, and requested 

 to begin. The water was like glass. A blazing 

 western sun had just risen, and my heart sunk low. 

 Who could catch trout in water like that with three- 

 quarter-inch flies ? was my unspoken thought. But 

 my American hosts were looking on, and I began to 

 throw towards the shade of the opposite bank. At 

 the third cast the still water was broken by a swirl at 

 the tail-fly, and I hooked and landed a half-pound 

 rainbow-trout. This looked like business. I was left 

 in possession of the causeway, and had an excellent 

 morning's sport. Such simple-minded and voracious 

 trout I have never previously come across. Size or 

 colour of fly, within reasonable limits, was to them a 

 matter of complete indifference, and the play they 

 gave was excellent. During that day and part of the 

 next I killed 137 trout, averaging about \ pound, 

 the largest over 2 pounds, all well-shaped, good- 

 conditioned fish. The hotter and brighter the sun, 

 the better they seemed to take. 



My kind-hearted American hosts professed to know 

 little or nothing of fly-fishing, and contented them- 

 selves with bait-fishing. They did not do so well, 

 although the largest trout one of over 3 pounds 

 was caught by the judge, the only member of the 

 party who had never previously hooked a trout. He 

 had been stationed in a chair on the bank at the head 

 of a running stream, and a rod and line baited with 



