7 38 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 9, 1908. 
lure. The flies struck the water with a be¬ 
ginner’s indifference to location, and Tom drew 
them in with a speed which would have taken 
the record from the most timid fly that ever 
skipped across a pond. 
“What’s the matter—afraid some fish ’ll steal 
them?’’ Robert called, as he waded ashore with 
his catch flopping in the net. “Give them a 
little time.” 
Tom tried again and was then so moderate 
in drawing that the flies sank a foot or more 
under water and his rod was tilted well back 
before he attempted to recover. At last he re¬ 
membered that part of the programme, and jerk¬ 
ing vigorously, received the water-soaked snarl 
full in his face. 
“How do you steer these pesky things?” he 
asked of grinning Robert. 
“Use your judgment, as women say about 
spicing mince meat. But one thing, you are 
beginning with too much line. Shorten up, 
pick out a mark on the water and try to hit it 
with your flies. Then draw them, not too slow 
and not too fast. Mostly you’ve got to figure it 
out for yourself. You’ve got to take into ac¬ 
count the current, the wind, the water, the 
different kinds of trout, the different kinds of 
weather, and make them all sort of jibe.” 
“That sounds easy; just like ‘Be a god boy; 
grow into a smart man, and some day you will 
be president,’ ” Tom retorted. “But it strikes 
me that training for the presidency would be an 
easy snap compared with your course in fly¬ 
casting.” 
“Well, there has been many a president 
didn’t know enough to catch a trout on a fly, 
and then again there have been some that did. 
What one needs most to learn this business is 
horse-sense and patience. There’s lots of fel¬ 
lows that can cast flies ’most a mile, and hit a 
pinhead with them, but can’t guess within four 
rows of apple trees of where a trout is. You 
know pretty well where the trout are—you 
found that out with your bait-fishing. Now 
you’ve got to get your flies where they’re go¬ 
ing to fool the fish. No two fellows ever did 
that exactly in the same way, and you’ll have to 
invent still another way. You can watch me a 
little while if you want to, but it would do you 
more good to be plugging away by yourself. 
The whole point comes right here. Whenever 
you get a strike there is excitement enough 
about it, so that the position of your flies on the 
water at the time photographs itself on your 
mind. You’ll be able to remember just what part 
of the pool your flies were in at that time; how 
they stood in relation to the current, whether 
they were on the surface or submerged; and in 
fact you’ll remember the whole appearance of 
the incident. Now, when you have fly-fished a 
good many years and have a lot of such pictures 
in your mind, you’ll see that they all work 
themselves together into a sort of composite 
picture, just like photographing lots of faces 
into a composite photograph. That composite 
picture which you carry in your mind will tell 
you at a glance just where to cast for trout 
the instant you set your eyes on a new bit of 
water.” 
“My,” said Tom, “but you’ve got it bad! I 
guess I’ll watch you until you catch one, and 
then I’ll try again.” 
“All right. See that spot there just above 
the foam? Now, I’m going to let my flies float 
down ’most to it, and then kind o’ swing them 
around on a half circle. I’ll do part of it, and 
the current will do the rest.” 
Robert made the cast and repeated it two or 
three times before it seemed to attract any sub¬ 
marine attention. 
“Mebbe he ain’t there, but I’ll try him once 
more.” And the once more did the business. 
A native trout a foot long took the tail fly as 
promptly as if his attention had just been called 
to it. The fish had only started to run when 
there was a sudden halt, an indefinite movement 
of the line and considerable all-round splashing 
without much progress being made in any di¬ 
rection. 
“Bet I’ve got a double,” said Robert, and be¬ 
fore his remark was finished a trout leaped from 
the water, while a tail splashed into sight a 
couple of feet from it. “Great Scott!” he 
ejaculated. “If that pair can agree, to work 
together they’ll give me a fine race. But prob¬ 
ably they’ll be like fools in trouble and each 
have a different notion about how to get out 
of it.” 
Robert was correct in his surmise. The trout 
threshed and flopped about within a radius of 
ten feet and soon tired each other out. As he 
was working them in toward the net, he ex¬ 
claimed : 
“Talk about your niggers driving a mule and 
cow in one team—here is the pair for you!” 
On one fly was the trout they had seen, legiti¬ 
mately hooked by the under jaw, while the hook 
of the other fly was firmly imbedded in the belly 
of a sucker and was drawing the logy fish tail 
first. 
“Is there any particular rule for making thai 
sort of a catch?” Tom asked. 
“Unto him that hath shall be given,” Roberi 
gravely replied. 
“That’s the first time I ever heard a mar 
quote Scripture when a trout turned out to be < 
sucker.” 
“Well, I wanted to get one, anyway,” saic 
Robert, as he stuffed the ungainly fish into hi: 
basket. “I promised a redfin to Mrs. Turn 
over’s old yellow cat, when it came scrubbing 
around my legs last night. You’ll see she'll fee 
pretty good about swapping a little redfin fo 
this.” 
The pair went at their fishing again, and ii 
the intervals between the times when Tom’: 
flies were hung up in trees or securely hooke< 
on snags, he managed to land a couple of trout 
They were now back to where the garden o 
the Hook House runs down to the creek, an< 
it was breakfast time. Robert showed a catcl 
of eight, all good ones, for it is a pleasini 
feature of the Little Delaware that if you ge 
any they are apt to be sizeable. 
At the breakfast table Robert was making 
long reach for the maple syrup mug when h 
caught sight of Mr. Turnover digging angle 
worms in the garden. 
“Does your husband fish much?” he inquire' 
of the hostess. 
•“Land, no! He haint been fishin’ in twent 
years.” 
Robert made no comment but kept the angle 
worm-digging scene in his mind. 
“Well,” said Tom, after they had taken thei 
smoke and were ready to start, “I guess I’ll g 
along down stream a piece before I begin, an- 
then I won’t spoil the water for you. Thi 
looks like good fishing right back- here.” 
“Suit yourself,” Robert replied; “I’d just a 
soon begin here as anywhere.” 
With the bait can securely hid in his baske 
Tom started out. He did not actually inten 
to use the worms, but just wanted them as 
precaution. 
A rather disagreeable wind came up, but Tot 
