SUNDRY CONSIDERATIONS 69 



It was my first visit to the stream that year, and 

 from 9 a.m. till 3 p.m. on an August day I had 

 worked away for meagre results. There was no 

 rise of fly after ten o'clock, and a strong rise of 

 water-rats. Three trout had I turned over, and one 

 of one pound two ounces reposed in my bag. I had 

 not seen a rising fish for hours, when, weary and 

 disappointed, I drifted down the right bank to the 

 bottom of the fishery, and sat down to rest on the 

 steps which are set in the hole to assist bathers in 

 clambering out. 



" Pip !" I heard coming from somewhere. I 

 looked upstream, I looked under my own bank, 

 but not a sign of a ring was to be seen. " Pip, 

 pip !" again. At last, leaning low and looking 

 through the culvert, I saw, some two yards down, 

 what I took to be a dimple of a rising fish. Watch- 

 ing a few moments, I saw it repeated, and my 

 spirits revived. My point was fine, so I took it off 

 and knotted on a yard of sound Refina gut, and 

 ended it with a brown beetle with peacock's herl 

 body and red legs. I soaked him well, so that 

 there should be no drag on the surface, and then, 

 getting my length for the other side, let the fly 

 and gut drag in the stream till the moment I made 

 my cast. Fly and gut together struck the brick 

 face of the culvert, and fell in a heap at the mouth. 

 Instantly the current caught the fly and gut, and 

 extended it down the culvert. Almost at the 

 same moment the current of the main stream, 



