330 
THE PISHING GAZETTE 
[May 6, 1893 
intuitive insight commend me to the man who in¬ 
vented the Hare’s Ear. 
Richard Bowlker, writing in 1766, is my next 
author ; and, curiously enough, he overlooks the 
Yellow Dun altogether. 
Robert Salter, writing in 1811, gives “ the 
Camlet Fly,” with a wing of pale blue under wood 
pigeon’s wing and a body of yellow camlet; but 
as he describes the fly as appearing in March, 
probably this is not meant for the Yellow Dun. 
Pulman’s Yellow Dun is dressed thus: 
IFinr/.—Thrush or starling, erect. 
Body. —Yellow marten’s fur mixed with blue 
hare, rabbit, or squirrel’s fur. 
Legs. —Fine light blue hen’s hackle. 
WhisTc. —From large yellow hackle. 
Jackson’s Yellow - legged Bloa is thus de¬ 
scribed : 
Wing. — Inside dotterel or teal or light 
starling. 
Body. —Straw-coloured waxed silk. 
Legs. —Greenish-yellow hackle. 
Whisk. —Two strands of same. 
“ Teesdale Angler ” (Lakeland), in his extra¬ 
ordinary ill-digested book, gives practically the 
same dressing. 
Hofland, writing in 1839, gives as a dressing of 
his “ Pale Yellow Dun”: 
Wing. —Lightest (young) starling. 
Body. —Yellow mohair or marten’s pale yellow 
fur, tied with yellow silk. 
Hook. —Ho. 12. 
Marten’s fur is practically unobtainable now. 
Hofland also gives among his patterns for the 
Conway the following, which looks like a Yellow 
Dun: 
Legs and Wings. —Bright dun hen hackle 
(hacklewise). 
Body. —Yellow mohair. 
Hook. —Ho. 10. 
Theakston curiously omits the fly. 
Blacker (1843) recommends a wing of thrush or 
landrail and a yellow grizzle hackle, and in a 
hackled pattern a “ yellow dun body ribbed with 
light green silk.” 
Ronalds (1849) gives an ordinary enough 
dressing; 
Wings. —Pale starling. 
Body. —Yellow mohair mixed with pale blue 
mouse fur or yellowish silk well waxed to olive 
tint. 
Legs. —Light yellow dun hackle (whatever that 
means), or 
Buzz. —Light dun hackle on same body. 
Halcyon (Wade) in his stupendous collection of 
dressings gives no fewer than nine different 
dressings of the fly under no less than seven 
different names, apparently without a glimmer¬ 
ing consciousness that the same fly was meant. 
The names are “ Snipe Bloa (a winged pattern). 
Yellow Legs, Yellow Dun or Bloa, Light Bloa, 
Bloa and Yellow, Moor Poult and Yellow, and 
Yellow Dun or Bloa Ho. 2. T haven’t the courage 
to inflict such a batch of dressings on you, 
and shall content myself with calling attention 
to the peculiarities of the patterns where such 
exist. 
Snipe Bloa is winged with snipe, and has a 
magpie (herl) head. 
” Yellow Legs” is winged with “ lightest golden 
plover or dotterel.” This, of course, means the 
quill feather. I don’t own any dotterel, but I 
know the quill feather of the gold plover gives 
some lovely pale shades of white. 
“ Yellow Dun or Bloa ” is indefinitely described 
as winged with “ woodpecker,” but which bird 
of that class furnishes that material Mr. Wade 
carefully omits. 
“ Light Bloa ” is winged with snipe or blue 
fieldfare. Some lovely pale shades are to be had 
from the fieldfare. The snipe is somewhat dark 
for the Yellow Dun wing according to my taste. 
” Bloa and Yellow ” presents no novel feature. 
Moor Poult and YYllow is a winged rendering 
of our old friend Poult Bloa. 
Yellow Dun or Bloa Ho. 2 adds nothing to our 
resources., 
Historically it is hard to place Aldam’s Yellow 
Dun, but obviously it is an old pattern, and pre¬ 
cedes by many years many that we have been 
discussing. 
HTjijr.—Light starling. 
Body. —Buff Berlin wool on gold-coloured silk, 
Ijegs. —Rich buff Cochin’s hackle. 
1 must give you, to wind up with, a Scotch 
dressing from Webster’s “ The Angler and the 
Loop Rod.” 
Wing .—Canary or corn bunting. 
Body. —Straw-coloured silk. 
Legs .—Light yellow hackle. 
Hook. —Ho. 1 Adlington. 
And now, as the wind has dropped, there is a 
chance of an evening rise—and, if you are not 
above taking my advice, I would recommend you 
to put up a fresh Whitchurch, and get into posi¬ 
tion by the shallow just above the railway bridge 
—and here’s “ Tight lines to you.”— Yal Conson. 
ABOUT THAMES TROUT. 
By C. H. W. 
The great charm in Thames trouting is that 
you never know how long it will take you to get 
a fish ; you may hook one the first time the bait 
runs down the weir, or you may try for weeks, 
nay, months, and not have the satisfaction of 
reaching the “ Ultima Thule ” of an angler’s de¬ 
light. When you have landed your first fish, 
especially if he happened to be a thoroughly 
game one, the intense liking for the sport will 
never leave you ; all honour to those who try long 
and patiently before meeting with the success 
they deserve. 
There is a fascination about this particular 
branch of angling which is most entrancing; the 
fish is so scarce (though of late years, perhaps, a 
little more plentiful); giving such noble play 
when hooked, and is so beautiful when landed. 
The glorious tints of a freshly caught Thames 
trout, when in the pink of condition, must be 
seen to be thoroughly enjoyed; it is impossible to 
adequately describe them on paper, there is a 
peculiar gloss and silvery sheen which never 
returns an hour after the fish is dead, and some¬ 
times, soon after death, great yellow blotches as 
big as the palm of one’s hand appear on the fish ; 
they clear off again, but 1 cannot account for this 
phenomenon. When just out of the water, the 
fish shines and sparkles in a way that is never 
reproduced, however skilfully he may be set up ; 
therefore I say, catch one, and enjoy his perfect 
beauty. 
Then again, the fish is artful and shy beyond 
all belief. I should say that most fish over 71b. 
in weight have been hooked at least once in the 
course of their existence. Directly a trout takes 
up his quarters in a known spot, he is tried for 
again and again, and I am perfectly sure he 
knows as well as possible which bleak to take 
and which to refuse. More than once I have seen 
a trout take a bait within two feet of the one I was 
trying him with—this in quite open water, where 
both baits must have been clearly visible to his 
lordship. If this does not betoken knowledge on 
the trout’s part, what else is it P Chance ? I 
trow not. 
To see a fish you have long tried for, take bait 
after bait, day after day, in the same place, and 
at nearly the same time, and each time reject 
yours, leaves chance out of the question. To 
begin with, trout have the keenest sight, the 
glitter of a hook, a shiny piece of gut, the line 
dragging in the water, or perhaps the bait 
swimming a little unnaturally, warns an old 
artful fish as surely as if you pitched a paving 
stone ill front of him for his inspection. How¬ 
ever, sooner or later, through some change of the 
weather or water, or by using a larger or smaller 
bait, or different tackle, you will get hold of him; 
then woe betide the angler who indulges in cheap 
tackle and insufficient running line ; a smash is 
almost the certain result. The fish you have seen 
so constantly, and tried for so patiently, may 
have a snug resting-place forty yards away ; you 
have only seen him when he feeds, but be sure 
that he will bolt for that place immediately he is 
hooked, be it where it may. Let your line but 
catch in the winch or elsewhere during his first 
grand rush and you will never forget the 
disaster. 
The fun is not all over even when the fish is 
within reach of t he landing net. I once brought a 
trout to the bank no less than four times, three 
times he rushed off, apparently as fresh as ever, 
but at my fourth careful attempt his gallant 
heart failed him, but not through want of 
courage; he had fought so resolutely, and so 
bitterly, that when we laid him on the grass he 
just gave one flap of his broad tail and a sharp 
quiver, and never moved again. There is no 
living for days after being landed in the case oi 
a trout, he fights till he dies. A lubberly old carp 
thinks nothing of keeping alive, with the help of 
a little damp moss, for a long while ; not that _I 
despise carp or carp fishing, for an old carp is 
nearly as difficult to catch as a Thames trout, he 
has none of the fiery dash about him at feeding 
time that betrays many a gallant trout to his end, 
though by careful baiting you can inveigle a 
pond carp more easily than is generally known. 
Strange, but true, to relate, the first Thames 
trout I ever caught was on the very first day I 
ever tried for one; how few anglers have been so 
lucky ! Though he was quite a small fish of four 
pounds, I was intensely proud of him; finding, 
playing, and landing him by myself, though I 
was quite a lad then. I kept a small dinghy at 
Constable’s, Moulsej*, and one fine Saturday 
afternoon I sculled up to Sunbury, intending to 
sail back; while waiting for the lock to be opened, 
I saw a trout move in the eddy some considerable 
distance below the gates. I distinctly saw the 
fish, and knew I was not mistaken, though it 
seemed such a queer place for a trout. I made 
careful note of the spot, and on the following 
Wednesday sculled up again, after procuring a 
few baits from Smith, at Hampton Court, and 
anchored the dinghy within easy throwing dis¬ 
tance of the spot where I had seen the fish move, 
I remember to this day the fever of excitement I 
was in ; 1 could hardly put the bait on the flight. 
The first throw nothing happened ; the second was 
also fruitless; but the third resulted in a great 
boil in the water and a sudden tug, and, to my 
unbounded surprise, I was fast in a Thames trout. 
I was using a tiny little spinning rod and fine 
tackle, and really for some time hardly knew 
what I was up to; the largest trout 1 had ever 
killed before, being a brook trout of about a pound 
in weight. 'The net I had with me was only fit 
to land a roach, but by the greatest luck I had 
the sense to play my fish until he was quite done, 
and successfully lifted him at the fir.st trial. 
What a proud lad I was ! The trout seemed 
such a monster, and he happened to be a beauti¬ 
fully spotted little fish. I admired him for a long 
while before taking the hooks out of him. Some 
men dredging the shallow further up the river, 
saw me land him, and the river keeper, either 
Drew or Stroud, I forget which, soon hove in 
sight to view my prey. 
Hear you have got a trout, sir; may I see 
him P ” 
“Certainly. I got him spinning, and jolly 
pleased I am.” 
Out came the keeper’s foot-rule. “Hice little 
fish, sir; congratulate you on your success.” I 
was quite “ moithered ” by all this attention, but 
did not then know what an excitement even a 
small Thames trout causes, and how careful the 
keepers are to see that undersized fish are not 
retained. We basely ate him; in those days I 
knew not Cooper, and have always regretted 
this. I should now dearly like to have my first 
trout to look at, among some of those I have since 
taken. Capturing this fish fairly set me off on 
the sport, and though I had caught roach and 
dace and such small deer down in Hortolk ever 
since 1 was big enough to be trusted to go near 
the river, the idea of landing a trout weighing 
41b. had never entered my wildest imaginations. 
From small beginnings there are great endings. 
If I had not happened to see this fish while wait¬ 
ing for Sunbury Lock to be opened, I might 
never have thought about trouting at all, and 
the many, many happy days I have since spent 
on Old Father 'I’hames in pursuit of my favourite 
sport would never have been enjoyed. In fair 
weather and in foul, in flood and in drought, late 
and early, with good luck sometimes, and much 
more bad ditto at others, I have ever since stuck 
to it; never objecting to hard work when 
required. The great secret of the whole thing is 
patience, and a strong determination to bear up 
against disappointment. 
What “ wrinkles ” you learn, what dodges you 
try, and how intuitively you seem to know a fish’s 
habits after a while, and the exact spot to find 
him. All this is only to be experienced by the 
man who will work for himself, and use his own 
brains ; it is not done by letting someone else do 
it all for you. One thing I have always prided 
myself on, I have fished fair, using tackle tit for 
