Fly Fishing in British Guiana. 309 



A day's fishing in Demerara would surprise old ISAAC 

 Walton and his friend COTTON. No walking by pel- 

 lucid streams ruffled by the cool March wind ; the Angler 

 tossing in his hammock is awakened by the roaring of the 

 red howling baboons just as the break of dawn reddens the 

 Eastern skies. After a hasty toilet and a cup of steaming 

 coffee, as soon as there is light enough to see his flies, 

 our fisherman sallies out with his rod to cast his line in 

 the brown waters of the Lama or Maduni, Clad in the 

 lightest garments, his head prote6led from the sun by a 

 wide felt wideawake, he is a prey to innumerable sand 

 flies and mosquitoes which bite and sting at their plea- 

 sure. Before 8 a.m., the fierce horizontal rays of the 

 sun burn his back, arms and hands, so that they become 

 swollen and scarlet, and, reflefted from the water, take 

 the skin off his nose. Still the undaunted sportsman 

 feels indifferent to all these disagreeables, if he hooks 

 a cuffum of ten pounds, and sees the sun sparkling 

 on his silvery scales as he leaps madly in the air, 

 trying to rid himself of the cruel hook embedded in 

 his jaw ; or hears the scream of his reel, and feels 

 with a thrill of excitement the mad rush of a 5 lb. luku- 

 nanni boring its way through the brown water. As in 

 England, fish are capricious ; some days they allow them- 

 selves to be caught with ease, at other times they are 

 sulky or off their feed and refuse the more tempting lure. 

 An expert Angler at a favourable season may easily catch 

 in a day from fifty to eighty fish averaging over 2 lbs. 

 each; at other times with all his efforts he will catch 

 little or nothing. Patience and perseverance is the motto 

 for the Angler here as elsewhere. 



