OLD JOYS IN NEW PLACES 279 
Hard and determinedly I fished all that afternoon. 
Not a sign of trout was to be seen. Having 
covered a mile, I came to the Dargle Falls, not 
far from which spot was a Natal Police station, 
near Selsley Farm. Then the secret was ex- 
plained. On the side of the Falls where I had 
been ceaselessly casting the wet fly, there were no 
trout, or at any rate very few, then. They were, 
in those days, concentrated in the length on the 
other side of the Falls. Nightfall would soon 
come, but there was yet time on the other side of 
the Falls, and then, near the white bridge of happy 
memory, was to be seen a satisfying sight: trout 
rising ! By the time I got to work it was nearly 
dark, but good fortune sent the fly right over a 
rising trout, which took it. It was not a good 
light, and the trout fought fiercely ; how I did 
hope I should steer him clear of those rushes! I 
did so want to catch my first trout again! At 
last he came towards the landing net, and was 
gathered in. My first trout in England, described 
in the first chapter, was not big enough to keep, 
and had to be returned to the water; but this 
game South African fellow, weighing about half 
a pound, was sizable, fat, and in prime condition. 
In every way the sport with him was as good as 
with trout on any water which I have fished. 
Supremely happy, with the moon guiding the 
night into the way of peace, I sought the path to 
the farm ; my “first trout again” made me a boy 
once more, and amongst my thoughts, I hope 
was a sincere thank-you to those good, sporting, 
