THE APRIL DAY. Q 



steep my senses in the roar and turmoil of the flashing water, I 

 know well that I might as easily describe a swallow's flight as the 

 abounding loveliness of this great fall at Aysgarth." 



None but the happiest recollections will dwell in the mind of 

 those who have looked down upon the Yore from the cliff in the park 

 of Bolton Hall, or who have followed it where it flows past pictur- 

 esque Wensley, or through the delightful Hackfall Woods. At 

 West Tanfield the river is full of ripples and murmurings, and the 

 old bridge which spans it invites indulgence in the irresistible 

 habit of " bridge-musing." Here in this spot linger memories of 

 John Jackson and " Max " Walbran, two noted Yorkshire anglers. 

 During his lifetime, Walbran was inseparable from Tanfield and the 

 " Bruce Arms," and now rests in the little graveyard, within sound 

 of the song of the stream he loved and fished for over forty years. 



A word of warning to anglers fishing this river might here be 

 added. A storm in the region where the Yore is newly born will 

 sometimes cause the water to rise suddenly, and it will thus be seen 

 that too great a care cannot be exercised whilst wading. There are 

 places also in this rapid stream where the shelving ledges of rock 

 form veritable death-traps for the visiting angler. At Tanfield 

 there is a spot the grave dangers of which Walbran himself con- 

 tinually pointed out ; and it was there, curiously enough, that he 

 eventually met his untimely end. 



Within the hallowed precincts of this charming valley of the 

 Yore I spent the day which stands out conspicuously in the fields of 

 memory. April had nearly traversed its allotted course along the 

 path of Time, and was almost stepping upon the threshold of May. 

 Although morning was ushered in with golden sunshine, it could 

 not be said that great expectations in the way of sport were borne 

 on the wings of the nor'-west wind, for it was keen and boisterous. 



" What flies had I best try ? " I soliloquised whilst walking 

 briskly towards the river, which sparkled in the brightness of the 

 morning. I decided finally upon the Early Brown as tail fly, with 

 Spring Black, Dark Snipe and Orange, and Waterhen Bloa as first, 



