134 THE TROUT ARE RISING 
one of the best, but the way he handled it sent it 
up in value at once. ‘True, he was standing on a 
high bank—it was on the Tamar—but what a 
line he threw, and with apparently so little effort ! 
Clearly, he was a masterhand. Moreover, he had 
perfect control of the very long line he was getting 
out, and when a trout rose to the fly, as one soon 
did, it was that trout’s last rise. After that he 
soon caught another. No, he would not keep the 
trout, thank you: those were for the guests who 
had been given a day’s fishing. I was much 
impressed both by his courtesy and his skill, and 
was grateful for what really amounted to a useful 
lesson in fishing. For that keeper taught me, 
amongst other things, what shooting line was, I 
had a notion of it before, but he showed me 
what you could rea/ly do with it. Afterwards on 
the Teme my friend the Major supplemented 
the teaching by showing me how shooting the 
line is assisted by lowering the point of the rod 
at the right moment. 
A friend of mine once had an amusing en- 
counter with a water-bailiff. He was but a 
novice then. It was in the morning, and he was 
just about to enter the water, when a benevolent- 
looking gentleman suddenly appeared from _no- 
where, and greeted him kindly. They talked 
about many things, and my friend wondered who 
the distinguished-looking, nicely-spoken stranger 
might be. The newcomer said it was better to 
start grayling fishing, those days, at ten o’clock 
instead of an hour later. Thanking him heartily, 
