TACTICAL 187 



blue fur, dyed to match the body shade; and whisks of 

 soft rusty honey dun. My friend's floater covered the trout 

 a number of times without disturbing him and without 

 attracting his attention, though several times the trout 

 rose at something invisible an inch or two from my friend's 

 fly. I made up my mind that he was not taking on the 

 surface, and in preparation for the next fish I dipped my 

 fly in a small glycerine bottle and ran the glycerine up the 

 length of the first strand of gut. 



Presently my friend made up his mind to change his 

 fly, and begged me to take a cast while he was doing so. 

 Thus it came that the glycerine-logged fly pitched beyond 

 and just to the right of the trout and went under imme- 

 diately. The trout had it at once. I did not kill the 

 trout, for, after ploughing through several heavy beds of 

 weed, he wore down the cast enough to break it without 

 my ever seeing him. He was, however, a heavy fish, in 

 the neighbourhood of, if not over, three pounds. 



There was nothing else doing during the afternoon, and 

 presently we went in for an early dinner. 



Soon after nine the same evening the blue-winged olive 

 rise began, and though there were not many fish rising 

 those that were rising seemed to be rising very well. In 

 vain, however, we plied them with Orange Quill and Rusty 

 Red spinner, for not a vestige of a rise did either of us 

 secure. At last, at ten minutes to ten, I made up my 

 mind to try an alternative I had not tried that evening, 

 and I knotted on a dark nymph pattern, soaked it in 

 glycerine, and despatched it to a trout over which I had 

 spent ten minutes with the dry fly in vain. The fly lit 

 nearly a yard from the trout, but it was hardly under 

 before he had it, and the keeper weighed him later at 

 two pounds fourteen ounces. 



I hurried over to my friend, gave him a nymph, knotted 



