168 THE WAY OF A TROUT WITH A FLY 



and concluded he was not taking subimagines. I had 

 seen no spinner going down, so I knotted on a nymph, 

 wetted it thoroughly in my mouth, judged my distance, 

 and dropped the fly a foot in front of the fish and outside 

 him. The fly went under, and instantly there was a tell- 

 tale hint on the surface which made me pull home. I 

 netted the fish out eventually at the place where I 

 had put down the first fish, and the scales said two and 

 three-quarter pounds. The next stretch was barren, but 

 when I found another riser the evening had moved on, 

 and the trout would have nothing to say to the nymph. 

 I tied on an Orange Quill, and the next fish had it at the 

 first offer. He scaled two pounds five ounces, I got one 

 other of one and a half pounds, and then all was suddenly 

 over for the evening. 



The following week-end a friend got the fish I had begun 

 on. He scaled three pounds two ounces. If only I ! 



July 6 was another blue-winged olive evening, but 

 as there had been a sprinkle of the subimagines coming 

 up all day, and I had seen none on the water for half an 

 hour, I divined, when the trout began to rise madly about 

 9.30, that it was spinner that was doing the trick. There 

 were two big fish rising within ten feet of one another in a 

 favourite bend where the current ran deep and strong under 

 my bank, the left. I therefore tied on a hackled Ruddy 

 Spinner, and laid it across the lower fish. He had it 

 immediately and tore off up the stream, half out of water, 

 for some twenty yards or more. Then I turned him down, 

 but the mischief was done; the upper fish was scared and 

 had gone. The hooked fish made a gallant fight, but the 

 keeper weighed him a little later — two and a half pounds 

 good. It was some way up to the next riser, and when I 

 had put him down with a bad cast I thought all was over 

 for the evening, and was making for the bridge to cross the 



