FOUR YEARS LATER 257 
tures had taught me that attention with the net 
should be first directed to the big one. That 
done, the other, a half-pounder, could be coaxed 
on to dry land without being netted. 
A feature on another day was the occurrence 
on a shallow stretch of river of a bewildering rise 
of trout, which were feeding as if they had been 
hungry all their days and as if this was to be their 
only meal for years. The fly on the water was what 
is called the Mooi moth in its artificial form, and 
it was out in myriads. A blue dun is not unlike 
it in appearance. Next day came a heavy snow- 
storm. The hatch of fly would seem to have 
anticipated it, and to have preferred being snapped 
up by trout to perishing miserably in the snow. 
Killing flies for the Mooi in August are the 
butcher, Zulu, hare’s ear, Hardy’s favourite, brown 
palmer, woodcock-and-hare’s-ear, teal and yellow, 
blue dun, Mooi moth, and (in the evening, or 
on a windy day) the coachman. I used fine gut, 
and the hook was generally No. 12, which is 
excellent for rapids or busy water, but too large 
for still water, where it is so desirable for the fly 
to fall like a snowflake ; a splash puts down trout 
at once. 
In August you will probably find early visits 
to the Mooi river profitless—it is too cold— 
while the evening rise in all its magic, resembling 
a May-fly carnival in the meadow streams of 
England, does not come on until September and 
later. 
Fish or no fish, it is fascinating by Mooi-side 
s 
