B. W. O. 169 



river and so home-along, when I saw a fish rise under a 

 tussock by my bank. I gave him the fly, and he took it 

 gaily, and presently joined the fish in my bag — a com- 

 paratively small fish, one pound nine ounces, and not a very 

 good colour. Then, as I came to the spot from which I 

 had cast to him, I saw, three or four yards higher up, a 

 series of spreading rings which called for the administration 

 of the Spinner. Again, the first chuck was all that was 

 necessary. At the movement of the neb I pulled in, and 

 the line was torn off the reel as the fish raced madly diag- 

 onally across the river, and ended with a wild fling in the air 

 that revealed his solid proportions. He put up a gorgeous 

 fight, but came to the net at last — two pounds twelve ounces 

 exactly. That was really the end of that evening. 



The following week-end I was down again. It had 

 rained hard in the afternoon and evening, and I did not 

 get into position till 9.15. I was clad in a mackintosh, 

 which covered me down to the tops of my waders, to 

 preserve me from getting soaked by the dripping herbage, 

 in places nearly man high. I began at the choice corner 

 above-mentioned. There were two fish busy in it, both 

 good ones, and I made the mistake of giving them the 

 Spinner which had been successful on the previous oc- 

 casion. I had seen a good hatch of subimago on the 

 surface, and if I had only exercised ordinary common 

 sense I would have put an Orange Quill, and I should 

 probably have had one and possibly both. As it was, I 

 put both down. I then moved quietly up to get to the fish 

 I had put down by a bad cast the previous week-end. I 

 found him busy, but not too busy to attend to my Orange 

 Quill. He weighed two pounds two ounces. Next I cast 

 right across to a fish taking steadily in the shadow under 

 the far bank. He soon stopped; probably it was drag. 

 I felt sure he was a good fish, and I got to the bridge 



22 



