THE MAYFLIES 99 



on finest drawn point ; bat now we were 

 out for bigger game, and a great Marquis 

 on stout gut amongst these small fry- 

 seemed coarse and out of place. We 

 caught ten and returned nine, and then I 

 moved on across the pastures and reached 

 the larger stream. Here all was quiet, 

 not a fish broke surface, and curiously 

 enough, though such a short distance 

 away, not a single INlayfly floated on this 

 water. High overhead a swarm of under- 

 takers soared and dipped continuously in 

 their weird " dance of death." Apparently 

 their carnival was over, and we arrived too 

 late. Yet what a stream it was, with 

 those long oily runs between the starry 

 white-flowered weeds, and those green 

 slow-moving depths under the willow- 

 trees. Just the water to hold big fish. 

 The only thing to be done was to sit 

 down and wait patiently for those big fish 

 to rise. The grass was soft and fragrant. 

 Now and again a dabchick would move 

 amongst the masses of white water-ranun- 

 culus, or a skimming swallow dint the 

 river's surface to form a widening circle, 

 bearing a short-lived hope. Once a pearl- 



