102 GOLDEN DAYS 



First Jean Pierre took a tin of Mayflies 

 from his pocket, emptying them into the 

 butterfly-net, which was then twisted 

 over and soused in the river. Jean Pierre 

 and Nature do not commence their tactics 

 on the surface, so this first batch of fly 

 must travel down as submerged as 

 possible. The net was now lowered till it 

 rested on the gravel-bed, its open mouth 

 against the stream ; from time to time it 

 turned for a moment to allow the current 

 to carry off a few of the insects. Lying 

 full-length on the bank and looking down 

 through the clear water, one could see the 

 flies quite plainly, but not their wings, 

 which were so sodden and flattened as to 

 be practically invisible. In fact, each 

 full-fledged drake was made to play, very 

 creditably, the role of hatching nymph. 

 Batches of fly continued to enter the net 

 and follow each other in increasing 

 numbers, borne along in the slowly 

 moving current. At length I imagined 

 I saw a faint grey flash from the depths 

 some distance below. Then came the 

 suggestion of a swirl in the shadow of the 

 willow- trees. Jean Pierre had seen it, too. 



