234 MELTON AND HOMESPUN 



leaping fish appeared like nothing so much as atoms of 

 animated silver flitting through a filigree of sunlit spray. 

 But alas ! the weir proved too great an obstacle for the 

 little fish to negotiate; the rush of water hurled them 

 back into the pool below, and never a dace or roach 

 succeeded in gaining the main river. 



Some of the readers may remember the salmon-ladder 

 on old Molesey Weir by means of which, in years gone by, 

 the lordly Thames salmon ascended to the " redds " 

 on Hampton shallows, and other gravelly breeding 

 grounds. The ancient salmon-ladder disappeared when 

 the present Weir was built; there is no use for such 

 appliances in Father Thames nowadays, for every attempt 

 to re-introduce Salmo salar to our principal river has 

 proved futile. We often wonder, however, why the 

 experiment of introducing the Danubian species of 

 salmon, which need not necessarily run down to the sea 

 after spawning, has not been tried on a larger scale. 



But we are wandering too far up stream. Let us 

 return to the tidal water at Teddington ! 



As we watch the nodding point of our rod, the shadow 

 of a large bird is distortedly reflected on the broken 

 surface of the water. Looking skyward we observe a 

 grey heron sailing over the pool on great fan-like wings, 

 and to our joy the beautiful feathered fish-poacher 

 settles under the high bank of a private la\vn that runs 

 down to the further end of the weir. Through a pair 

 of battered but powerful old field-glasses, which have 

 served us very faithfully for a number of years, we are 

 enabled to watch every movement of the heron. Upon 

 settling under the bank he, for the space of several 

 minutes, stands motionless and, apparently, asleep, with 



