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Hawthorn Fly Fishing & Angling Collection
Booth, J.E.
Dewar, George A. B. (George Albemarle Bertie), 1862-1934
"With contributions from the Marquis of Granby and J.E. Booth" -- Title page
x, 238 pages : illustrations, plates (part colour) ; 23 cm
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THE LIBRARY I THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA Harry Hawthorn Foundation for the Inculcation 8l Propagation ofthe Principles $_ Ethics of Fly-Fishing Ii 1 THE BOOK OF THE DKY FLY 7= L I s L >f the Drv FIv i^U The 1 Book of the Dry Fly GEORGE A. B. DEWAR WITH CONTRIBUTIONS BY THE MARQUIS OF GRANBY and J. E. BOOTH LONDON LAWRENCE AND BULLEN, Ltd. i6 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 1897 [All rights reserved] fc. PREFACE To write a preface to a work on Dry Fly ■Fishing would be ordinarily, in my humble judgment, nearly as daring a proceeding as to write a work itself on this fascinating subject. There are of necessity so many views held as to the best methods of using the Dry Fly, and such a number of diverse opinions firmly adhered to in regard to the details of the sport, that in advocating any particular volume as supplying information in a more useful way than that tendered by other works, one would at once be told—and rightly so—that one was writing in a purely partisan spirit. • But the Author of The Booh of the Dry Fly seems to me to deal so broadly and fairly with this delicate piscatorial art, and to have so due an appreciation of the undoubted value not only of the different ways of using the Dry ! vi PREFACE Fly, but also of what is termed " Wet Fly" fishing, that in the present instance prefacing is a comparatively easy task. Mr. Dewar, in the course of this work, touches on nearly all the points which are of distinct interest to him who would become proficient in this most enthralling branch of fly-fishing, and, as I have before said, does not disdain to say something on what is also a most pleasant amusement, the practice of the Wet Fly. Founding his observations and suggestions on experiences gained on the banks of many rivers—with several of which I am myself well acquainted—he goes into almost every matter that affects the Dry Fly enthusiast, and does not omit to allude to some of the multitude of heartrending misfortunes which in the course of a day's sport so frequently beset the deftest and most accomplished fisherman. Moreover, the pages of The Booh of the Ih*y Fly are instinct with the loye of Nature, which in itself constitutes much of the charm of fishing, and without which I should hardly advise * any one to become one of Old Izaak's followers. PEEFACE Mi This is hardly the place for a lengthy disquisition on the many interesting matters brought to the purview of the reader, but I would strongly recommend those who desire to improve the fishing in their rivers to note what Mr. Dewar says on excessive weed-cutting, and the absolute necessity of leaving a sufficient quantity of weeds in a trout stream. Many a river has been spoilt by an ignorant and over-zealous keeper removing nearly all the various weed- growths, thereby destroying food and shelter for the trout. Indeed, I know of one glaring instance of a piece of water, in which six or seven years ago four and five pound trout could be killed and where three-pounders were numerous, but where now, owing to the folly of those in charge of the stream, a trout of the last-mentioned size is a rare fish : the average weight indeed at this time would not be more than one pound. This depressing change i3, in my belief, due solely to the incessant weed-cutting and rakiag up that, under the keepers supervision, are constantly taking place. Allusion is made in one of the chapters of PREFACE this work to the courtesy and good feeling displayed toward the fisherman by those who live near trout streams. Mr. Dewar describes how, when fishing a length of the BradforcL which runs within a few feet of a road, he noticed that the lead-miners and villagers, when passing, carefully walked as far from the stream as possible; thus by their thoughtful- ness not disturbing the water and "putting down" the rising fish. No one knows the spot indicated better than I, and frequently has the same consideration been extended to me. I should like to record how greatly I, and many of those who have fished the Bradford with me, are indebted to my friends of Youl- greave and Alport for this mark of their kindly good feeling. Before concluding this brief notice of The Booh of the Dry Fly, I must venture to make one suggestion touching the observations of the Author on "Bulging" and "Tailing" trout. Mr. Dewar says that a trout that is " tailing—" i. e. feeding on fresh-water shrimps or what-t not—can sometimes be caught by the angler fishing for him with a large Alder, and casting PREFACE ix a long line down stream. In this I fully agree. But may I add that it is also possible to kill trout thus employed by fishing up stream, and slightly sinking the fly ? I have several times tried this method with success—always with the Alder; and by waiting till the tail is less in evidence, which shows the trout has rested from his grubbing labours for a while, and taken his head out of the weeds, I have induced the fish to look with a favourable eye on the fly presented to his notice. But I may not say more on the multitude of . interesting matters which the reader will discover in this book. No fisherman, however accomplished, can have learnt so much as to be above adding to his knowledge by studying a work such as The Booh of the Dry Fly: which—from the mass of fishing information it supplies; from its sketches of that delightful scenery which always surrounds a trout stream in whatever county it may be; and from the evidences which appear on every page that its Author is thoroughly in sympathy with the feelings, desires, and 1 Jl x PREFACE hopes of every one who follows this charming sport—will, I am confident, prove a volume worthy of being included in every angler's library. Granby. I- May 11, 1896. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE i. The Pursuit of the Trout ... 1 n. Fishing the Stream and Fishing the Rise 22 HI. A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 48 iv. Concerning both Gross and Aggravating Feeders 82 v. The Trout at Home. 102 vi. dlbbing with the dry fly 126 vii. Evening Fishing 147 vm. Concerning Trout Flies 166 ix. The Dry Fly in Derbyshire 194 x. The Angling Inn ... , 217 Index 235 f HI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS " The Very Spot " (Head Waters op the Lea, near Hatfield) (Drawn by Lewis Cohen) Frontispiece Artificial Flies,. Plates I, la, 16 (Tied by J. "R. Richardson, Kingston-on-Thaimes) to face page 92 Natural Flies, Plate II. (Drawn by E. Neale) to face page 120 Artificial Flies, Plate III. (Tied by Farlow, London) ... ... ... ... to face page 180 Artificial Flies, Plate IV. (Tied by George Holland, Winchester) to face page 200 The Dry Fly Angler's Knots ... „ „ 223 1 I THE BOOK OF THE DEY FLY CHAPTER I- THE PURSUIT OF THE TKOUT The method of angling with a dry and floating fly over a rising trout is unquestionably coming more and more into favour. Probably where there were a dozen Dry Fly fishermen ten years ago, there are more than treble that number now. Figures, however, like the weights of trout and salmon hooked but never landed, are, where they cannot be exactly vouched for, dangerous to deal with; perhaps, therefore, it would be best to say that the army of anglers who now " fish the rise," instead of contenting themselves, as the vast majority of trout fishermen used to do not so long ago, with a general and impartial whipping of the stream THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY in all likely parts, is greatly increasing season by season. Instead of the operations of the Dry Fly fisherman being confined to the Hampshire Chalk streams, as the Test and Itchen have been so truly and nicely named, they have now been extended to many suitable waters in the Midlands, North, West, and East of England, the- regular anglers whereof are often only acquainted with the leading waters of the South of England through report, having learnt all they know of their craft—which is not a little —in their own country. Whatever may have been the case a quarter of a century ago, and even much more lately, the well-conditioned and sizable trout of the Derbyshire -Wye, or at least of that length between Bakewell Dam and Rowsley Bridge—- as lovely and fishable a stretch of trouting water as one could wish for—now like their fly dry and " cocked," no less than do their brethren of Test, Itchen, and Lambourne. Thus the Dry Fly on the Derbyshire Wye is no more an affectation than it is on those waters of the south which have become sacred to the method; and indeed, as I shall endeavour to* prove in the course of this volume, the Dry Fly is never an affectation, save when resorted THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT to in the case of the brawling impetuous streams of mountainous districts, where it is practically impossible of application. I have heard of the Dry Fly being used on the pools of some of the Norwegian rivers, but have never in any of the southern Scandinavian waters seen it resorted to or tried it myself; nor even seen any stream in the least degree suitable to a single Dry Fly. As a matter of fact, big flies, and several of them on the cast, are as much the ordinary and orthodox method of fishing this kind of water as the single Dun or Spinner on the finest gut is the method on Test or Itchen. The Dry Fly is as obviously out of place on the Wet Fly water, as the Wet Fly is on the Dry Fly stream. If all streams could be definitely assigned a place in one or other of these classes, there could scarcely be any friction, or call it difference of opinion, between Dry Fly and Wet Fly anglers, such as does, sometimes arise at present. The man who swears by the Sunk Fly method under normal conditions on the Test or Itchen is a mere eccentric, no more demanding serious attention than his brother eccentric who carries his Dry Fly principles to the absurd length of fishing the rise on the Tweed or the moorland THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY streams of Somerset and Devon, with a single winged fly dressed to float and to "cock" upright. But when we come to streams, the number of which is considerable, where both methods are practised,—where many of the local "authorities" are alleged to fish with the Wet Fly, and, what is more, kill their creel of trout with it against all new-fangled doctrines,— the case is altogether different. Take for instance the Derbyshire Wye or the famous Dove of the same county, and select for illustration the Rutland length of the former and what may be called the Izaak Walton length of the latter. To my fancy, both these waters are Dry Fly ones. In low bright water, when there is no fly out, or when what there is out is whirled off the stream into the heights of wooded Dovedale, my experience is that the latter river is one neither for Wet nor Dry Fly, so far as the trout are concerned. Indeed, when the fish are not rising in the Dove there is surely not a more hopeless stream in the length and breadth of the British Isles, whether the time be boisterous April, Midsummer, or sultry August. There are streams, especially in. the Home Counties, where with a little wind to icause a ripple trout may be brought to ■auOi THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT 5 basket on days when no fin, save that of the base shrimper and searcher after the unconsidered trifles at the bed of the brook, which no tackle-maker can imitate, stirs above the water, and when the trout seem as motionless as the snags and stones amidst which they lurk. The Dove cannot be included amongst such productive waters. On the other hand, when there comes a good steady hatch of pleasant Duns, Dove often shows a lovely rise of trout. Then proficient Wet and Dry Fly anglers who know their water both reckon on sport, and both often obtain it. The most devout Dry Fly fisherman cannot deny that the Wet Fly method often makes the creel heavy on the Izaak Walton length of the Dove, as well as on the twin stream, the high-banked Manifold; whilst sometimes both methods have to yield the palm, in regard to the. size of the bag, to the artificial minnow—often a deadly lure in the rough water and stickles, when spun by such a skilful hand as that of young Mr. Prince, of the Walton. Yet, to my mind, the Izaak Walton length of the Dove, particularly about the Dove Holes, and also where it emerges from the Dale, is almost an ideal stream for the single floating Dun or May-fly over the rising trout.* 1 ill 6 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY Though it is a beautiful thing to see a master of the art drop his fly like the proverbial piece of thistle-down on almost dead water—suffering it to float slowly down, dry and well " cocked," so- that it actually deceives the wariest of old customers—most anglers prefer water with a little movement. The gentle flow of the Dove, with its slightly broken surface, helps the angler to make his floating fly a wonderfully exact imitation of nature, and that is why one is inclined to describe it as in parts an almost ideal Dry Fly stream. Moreover, when the watei4 is very low and clear, the single fly over the rising fish must, it stands to reason, be, when properly administered, the most telling method. Trout do sometimes appear to take complete leave of their senses, and grab at the most impossible- looking lures, such as a huge gaudy Alexandra or a preposterous salmon fly, but rarely, if ever, when the slow-flowing water is like gin, the time summer (when nine fish out of ten are once more in condition), and the day cloudless and perfectly calm. We have all at one time or another heard tales of men who can take trout, and take them fairly, with a Wet Fly ("none of your Dry Fly fads I'") under any known conditions, or in any water where there are trout to take ; but then we wt\ THU PXJRSUIT OF THE TROUT 7 have heard of thunderbolts picked up in the fields, of showers of fish from the clouds, and of sea-serpents. Again, by the Derbyshire Wye, the Wet Fly angler plies his vocation, and sometimes with a fair measure of success, when there is water and the fish have not yet come to be the crafty creatures of the summer-time. The Derbyshire Wye in its lower length is noted for its many and splendid backwaters, or "backwashes" as some call them, and to fish with a cast of Sunk Flies, > these nooks and corners of the stream, with their; still or very softly-flowing water, is of no possible avail. But there is rough water in mid-stream, and occasionally under the banks, and here an. unsophisticated trout may be hooked, though* he will very rarely turn the scale at a pound. Grayling of course can be taken with a Wet Fly, that being as a matter of fact the best method of making a creel full of thyllamus; but then Dry Fly fishing for that comparatively inferior fish is not, as a rule, save on the Itchen and one or two other South-country streams, deliberately resorted- to* Putting grayling out of the question—many, trout fishermen would like to see them put out of the river—the Wye in the lengths to which I am referring, as well as perhaps in the Buxton 8 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY stretch, which is a somewhat different class of water, is now at any rate a less favourable stream for the ordinary and old-fashioned method than the Dove. The backwaters, even in the early spring, are impossible, save to the Dry Fly angler, and it is here that the trout when the season begins to advance most love to feed; here and right under the banks in quiet eddies and oily-looking swirls, from which coigns of vantage they have got into the habit, in these days of piscatorial over-education, of scrutinizing all flies, real or imitation, that pass over them in a most critical manner. I once pricked a trout slightly, but without scaring him away from the surface. After this misadventure, the fish continued to feed, but in a far daintier way than he had been doing. Not only did he utterly reject the artificial, but in many cases he followed down a natural Dun for several feet, closely examining it the while, and in the end rejecting the tempting morsel. Finally, my artificial, unskilfully presented, " dragged " badly across the current, and this so offended the trout that he faded into the depths. Is it to be wondered at iAat trout educated to this extent are, in low water and during the summer season, suspicious of any but an exact imitation of nature ? And the Lower ——-=—- the pursuit of the trout Wye, as most frequenters of that water know, to their mingled sorrow and triumph, abounds with such fish. I have gone, however, the length of admit- ting that the Lower Wye, as well as the Lower Dove, may be classed between, as it were, the thorough Wet Fly streams, as, say, the Coquet, the Welsh Wye, and the moorland rivulets of the West country, on the one hand, and the undoubted Dry Fly streams like the Test, Itchen, Lambourne, and Upper Lea on the other; though I cannot suppose that three Wet Flies can in the hands even of the most skilful avail, so far as the taking of good trout is concerned, in the long run, on either Wye or Dove, against the single dry one deftly offered to the selected rising fish. Now, it is only in the case of this kind of streams that there can be any serious difference of opinion between the two schools of fly fishing, and there is no reasonableness in anglers falling out and reviling each other's methods, much less each other, even when the old and the new styles do come into vivid contrast and rivalry. There is room for both, especially on the Wye, where grayling abound and unquestionably prefer the sunk Bumble of brilliant hue to sombre, floating Dun or Gnat. It 10 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY is only the prig who sets his nose in the air at the sight of the laborious Wet Fly angler conscientiously assailing the whole stream from morn till eve; only the man too proud and self-conscious to learn, who scoffs at what he pretends to regard as the affectation of the Dry Fly angler conscientiously assailing a single feeding trout, sometimes for considerably over an hour at a stretch. Though there are bores and faddists who handle the rod, one is pleased to think that the ranks of true anglers do not contain a very large number of the aggressive and intolerant persons alluded to above. Those that do exist are at a discount among the followers of Old Izaak by the streamside in the day-time, and at night in the smoking-room of the angling inn lord it over their peers with difficulty, and do not lord it long: to adopt an angling metaphor, and to introduce an instrument not included in the dainty and pleasant stores of the Dry Fly fisherman, they are sure to get ultimately gaffed. The extremists, or at least the objectionable extremists, thus disposed of, there is no just cause or impediment why anglers, Dry and Wet, should not in the great brotherhood, the freemasonry, of the angle, forget their little differences, or if they must argue, THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT 11 then argue gently, as their great common ancestor recommended his pupil to place the worm upon the hook. Dry Fly and Wet Fly anglers can fish the same brooks at the same time, and, so they adhere to the etiquette of the sport and avoid scaring or pursuing one another's fish, be on as good terms as were Piscator and Viator of the Compleat Angler; more, they can now and then, without loss of dignity, try each other's methods with profit and satisfaction. How both can regard the user of other and grosser baits, such as the worm and the natural May-fly— still resorted to, alas! on Dove and Manifold— is another question, depending on the nature of the stream and the written or unwritten law thereof; but this much may be said for certain, that if the custom of the river is " artificial fly only," they will sink their own little differences to condemn the angler whose methods are alien and inimical to the higher mode of sport. After all, it is only in the method of deceiving and hooking fish, that Dry Fly and Wet Fly anglers, assuming both to be good sportsmen, can materially differ. In nearly all other fly fishing matters they must naturally be at one. Both rejoice in the rise of fly, in promising angling weather, in the long delicious day by the I 12 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY ever companionable river, and in the almost invariable beauty of the scenery—for what stream where the trout and grayling thrive has not, all through the angling season at least, this last- named attraction? The scenery which the Dry Fly angler enjoys is not to be compared to that which so constantly opens out before the salmon fisherman amid the mist-enshrouded hills of Scotland, or in the rugged land of fjord and fjeld. Yet it has a quiet beauty and a sweetness of its own. It takes us, the pursuit of the trout in the bright, low-murmuring streams of the Home Counties, by secluded woodland glades and dells, where the sun strikes through a deep overgrowth of oak and ruddy beech tree leaves; where the slender wood wren trills its sad sweet song through the lengthening days of spring: to the edge and fringe of many little coppices, where, if you lie low and affect a cunning unconcern, you will see much bird and animal life; will* see the gorgeous pheasant strut forth and pick up a fat meal in the grasslands; the noisy jay and the intensely nervous wood cushat flutter down from the hazel boughs, and eye you for a space with profound suspicion; the rabbit pop out from THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT 13 its retreat, and for a moment alarm, and be alarmed by, its feathered friends. This pursuit of the trout will take us too through the luxuriant meadows, where the chalk stream .seems to flow clearer than the clear air itself, where every step crushes some scented water flower, and where the corncrake never tires of hopelessly confusing us as to its precise position in the tall grass; to dim groves of planted trees, where the mossy path is strewn with fir-cones, and the red squirrels chase each other in glad security ; to stately parklands, where the gnarled oak tree stretches forth its vast limbs in such fantastic forms, and where the hare will almost suffer you to tread upon it rather than stir from its " form " ; and often, in sleepy southern shires, to the remote thatched homes of humble country folk, where bunches of herbs hang above the great red-bricked hearth, and where you are always " kindly welcome." To those who have no soul for scenery, and to whom there never comes that intense longing to be steeped in the thousand odours, colours, and delicious sensations of spendthrift summer, which has always seemed to me inseparable from the pastime of the angle, Dry Fly fishing cannot be sincerely recommended. 1 14 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY Men have been heard to say that, provided they can kill fish, they do not care where they angle, and that a monotonous muddy canal, with its grimy barges, its uninviting and exposed towing-path, would, if it yielded big trout, be as good in their eyes as a crystal stream flowing through a very Vallombrosa of leaves and flowering things. To any such, and to aU those who are dull, save when they are filling the creel, the pursuit of the trout in Dry Fly waters can offer only occasional attractions. You cannot always be killing fish, even where they are turned in every year by hundreds, and rise even to the artificial fly with a more than child-like simplicity; and the chagrin and disgust of the mere creel-filler, or pot-hunter as some may more severely call him, when not a fin stirs from morn till night, the trout lying like stones at the bottom of the stream, must be great. Even to the angler who in the case of most waters will go home perfectly content with his brace or two of good fish after an eight or ten-hour day in the fields, with only a crust of bread for refreshment, and with no company save possibly his pipe, this stone-like behaviour of the trout is at times a trifle exasperating. But then, how much he has to THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT 15 fall back on. Dry Fly fishing, unlike several other branches of the sport, of angling, is coming to be restricted almost entirely to those seasons of the year when the time is either full summer, or well-foliaged spring. It is true that some rather impatient anglers get out their tackle and set to work in even the arctic Aprils which have made many a winter in spring of late years in England. In such seasons the riverside is naked of vegetation to shelter fish and fishermen, whilst the wind, which whistles drearily through the dead reeds and bare thin hedgerows, is often as that of frost-bitten January. The Dry Fly anglers of April, however, are tending in many places to become as rare as the grouse shooters of mid-winter, or the slayers of the hare in March. Only in very forward seasons are trout fit for the creel before May is with us. Sizable trout before then are usually deemed out of condition, a two-pounder being a hideous creature—lean, lanky, and black in hue. In April too the trout are usually in only a half-educated state; when, weak and dazed after their exhausting spawning operations, they will, if on the feed, take a Wet Fly as soon as a Dry one, and prefer a bunch of gaudy hackles and tinsel to a perfect imita- 16 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY iff!- tion of the natural Dun on the water. Thus in the case of several noted streams in the South it has become a wholesome and unwritten law amongst sportsmen that the trout shall be allowed to gorge themselves on shrimp and on fly—if any be out so soon—to the top of their bent, and quite undisturbed, whilst April lasts. May well in, the angler should find many consolations in case of a lack of sport, except in the most backward and inclement seasons. The jungle of the riverside, which in midsummer is well-nigh impenetrable in many untrodden and unfrequented spots, may be still beneath the ground, and the edges of the stream that six weeks or so later will be lined with great hedges of high flowering willow herb and other riparian plants, may be still almost bare and exposed; but the water meadows are all pranked with the marsh buttercup, whilst every copse and hedgerow past which the angler strolls is ablaze with spring's woodland blooms, with the cuckoo flowers, the wild anemones, and the blue-bells that grow in great thick patches which utterly put out the fainter blue of the dog violets. Most years you may expect to find these and many other flowers blooming some time early in May, in the sheltered districts THE PURSUIT OF THE TROtJT 17 of the Home Counties. As for the songs of the summer warblers now settHUg down to their nesting operations, they are as ceaseless; whilst day lasts as the music of the brook; and after the angler has taken his rod to pieces, and turned homewards in the thickening light, he may stop now and again for a few moments to listen more intently to the nightingale chanting his vespers from every spinney by the stream and the wayside. I have a note in my diary of such an evening a few seasons back in leafy Hertfordshire, when the air was, heavily laden with the rich odour of may. My bag contained but one trout, a pound in weight, obtained after a hard day's work. Yet it was a day that, in spite of meagre sport so far as the actual taking of trout was concerned, left most pleasant memories; a day that invited one to loiter in the fields, and in the heat of the early afternoon, when the fish were having their siesta, to lie under an oak and wait for a hatch of fly. These loiterings, these often long waits, are inseparable from Dry Fly fishing, and the man to whom they are acceptable, as affording ample opportunity for watching the capricious fish, as well as for enjoying the natural sights and sounds around, if he is not already a clever c THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY angler, has the makings of one in him. There is no surer sign of an unaccomplished Dry Fly fisherman than a hurrying, and an entire disinclination to ever assume a restful attitude and wait for rises. The only time a good Dry Fly fisherman ever perceptibly hurries after reaching the scene of action is when the light is swiftly waning, and it is necessary to get to a good fish, the rise of which will be indistinguishable in a few minutes. One may also now and then see a good man hurrying during a short, sharp rise of fish at the May-fly, which he knows by instinct, or by the experience of several days past, will all be over directly. Even in these cases hurry often breeds flurry and fluster, which end in a ghastly " kinking " of the line and likely enough a fishless bag or creel. No, hastelessness and leisurely movements mark the good angler. " Wait and watch * would make an admirable text for the Dry Fly fisherman. These waiting and watching intervals, these quiet saunterings, afford abundant opportunities for prying into the Book of Nature, and of adding to our often slender stock of knowledge of the animal and insect life which teems throughout the greater part of the Dry Fly fishing season. Only at rarest TBE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT Id intervals can the man, whose eyes, ears, and understanding are open to the life of the brookside, feel dull or lonely though alone on the banks of the trout stream; and even then it is not the feeling of isolation that sometimes takes possession of us in the midst of the crowded city. The chinks in the day of the Dry Fly sportsman can always be so easily and agreeably filled in by those who know how to steep themselves in the beauty of the day and in the life of the water meadows, as Izaak Walton knew and taught. Your stickler for precept, your formal John Wesley, may regard the saunterer by the brook* side as one who trifles away time, and your pothunter may regard such hours as the evils, however necessary, of "fishing the rise"; but that great preacher Richard Jefferies — who would surely have made an admirable Dry Fly angler—has said that these hours spent with Nature are the only ones in which we truly live, and the Revd. Aris Willmott too, in that delightful journal of his, Summer-time in the Country, remarks that "they whom the world calls idle are doing the most." I hope to show that they are not only drinking in deep draughts of the glory of Nature, but I THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY also laying themselves out to get the better of the craftiest and fattest trouts in the water, which to be hooked need to be much studied. The times then for Dry Fly fishing are those when it is possible to loiter by the water, as Walton loved to do whole days "by Shawford Brook*" February and March are sometimes excellent seasons for the Wet Fly angler in the North, or amongst the brisk and early troutlets of the wild moorland streams of Devon and Somerset, but they are not to be thought of by the Dry Fly angler. April is happily going out of favour in the case of most streams: May begins the legitimate season, and June is usually regarded as the cream of it. It's a poor Dry Fly heart that does not rejoice in July and August, and in my opinion he is rather a degenerate angler who entirely lays aside the trout rod for the gun, even in September. A grand angling month September is in the case of several Dry Fly waters in Derbyshire. Some indeed hold that the trouting in the Wye is then at its best, there often being a steady, sober rise of fish throughout the day. I have certainly killed good trout in that stream, in the pink of condition, so late as the last week in September, and have seen others kill more* THE PURSUIT OF THE TROUT 21 In the South, too, I recollect killing some beautiful trout in the Kennet at Hungerford, or rather in the branch known as the Dun, in the same month. Even in October trout are constantly taken by the grayling fisherman, and, owing to their handsome appearance and freedom from signs of the approaching spawning season, almost regretfully put back. The fence months must, however, begin some time in the fall of the year, even if we do not go fishing till May is well in, and no sportsman will care to kill his trout after the light of the last day of September has flickered away. ii CHAPTER II FISHING THE STREAM AND FISHING THE RISE It is quite likely that many anglers and folk ambitious to take to the rod who go so far with me, and agree that charming scenery and ample opportunity for enjoying wild nature must add greatly to the pleasures of fishing, may stall reserve their judgment as to the peculiar advantages of this Dry Fly method, until they have heard a good deal more about its exact features. Is there any particular pleasure to be derived from the practice of this style of angling quite apart from these attendant conditions of season, weather, and scenery? is a question frequently and naturally put to the Dry Fly fisherman. Much has been written about the method during the last few years in books, magazines, and daily papers. " South West's" weekly budget of notes to the Field throughout the season concerning his beloved Test has been a popular feature of that journal for many years past; and Mr. Halford's Dry FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 23 Fly Fishing has treated the practical side of the subject, so far as the Test is concerned, most thoroughly. And here one may parenthetically remark upon the love of plain, unvarnished truth which is characteristic of the writings of both these Test fishermen. That all anglers are, to put it mildly, dreamers of dreams, has come to be regarded as an established fact amongst English-speaking people. Curiously enough the followers of Walton are themselves far from inclined to take umbrage at this imputation ; on the contrary they encourage it by telling tales against one another, though never, so far as I have observed, against themselves. There is no disputing the fact that the weights of fish do depend sometimes on the particular frame of mind in which the angler who has hooked and lost them, happens to be. The angler undoubtedly has his delusions. The sweeping assertion, however, that to fish is to lie need not be entertained. What must strike all readers of "South West's" notes—readers, that is to say, who are in the least versed in angling or in entomological matters—is the obvious desire to tell the simple, straightforward truth, and sacrifice no particle of it to effect. " South West" never writes of a 2j-lb. as a 2^-lb. — Hharti !Wfrhrr isaka*s*&e2mm 24 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY trout, and if anything he would perhaps rather take off an ounce than put one on. That at any rate is the impression left on intelligent readers after a perusal of his Dry Fly notes. Besides these authorities on the Test in particular, a good many other writers have, of late, been busy with their pens in magazine, review, and evening paper on the method of Dry Fly fishing. Yet it has always seemed to me that the real end and aim of the Dry Fly fisherman, who loves the dainty art for its own sake, have too often been either misunderstood by those that hold forth on the subject, or else neglected. The notion which many students of the literature of the day on this fascinating theme must get is that the Dry Fly is simply resorted to on clear, slow-flowing streams, because it is the only effective way of assailing the big and highly-educated trout which are found in these waters. Certainly that is one reason why the Dry Fly method obtains on Test, Itchen, and other streams, but I shall hope to show that this in itself is by no means the sole object of "fishing the rise." It is not intended in this book to deal in . great detail with what may be described as the angler's outfitting department—with such -gaa FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 25 questions, for instance, as to what build of rod, texture of line, size of fly-box, and colour of clothes, are the best for the work. To tell the truth, I am not a very great believer in the laws which are frequently laid down by angling writers on these matters, and have got into the habit of sometimes using tackle calculated to bring one into the utter contempt of every self- respecting maker and seller of fishing implements. I frankly admit that amongst my fishing stores there is scarcely a single really high-class-looking implement. These stores do not include a split cane rod—which is an undoubted defect—or a reputable fishing-bag; some of the gut, though fine enough, does not taper, the winches are by no means of the. latest pattern, many of the flies could not have cost more than two shillings a dozen, the lines are in no case more than, about thirty yards in length, and as for the landing-net (which has now been in use for at least five years) you could not purchase such a mean-looking article in any tackle-maker's in the whole of the West end of town. How can one who nses such rough implements as these take it upon himself to tender advice as to the gorgeous half-guinea boxes for flies, as to the five-guinea rods, and the marvellous a^S££L^e^r^ ~-*y-.-*- ^ -._•>_-?,. THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY landing-net—things which double and twist up into nothing almost, and have bamboo handles beautifully polished—as to the hundred and one costly odds and ends that have been devised of late years by disinterested inventors, whose pne object is to aid the angler in his pursuit of the trout ? If he were to give any advice to the beginner, it would be this—do not make any save a very modest outlay until you have taken your first lessons by the riverside, and have learnt what is really necessary, and what simply ornamental and cumbersome, in the way of tackle. It is not the rod so much as the hand which wields it that kills the trout, though it might be idle to deny that given two equally skilled performers, the man with the best implement has in the long run the pull. There are certain things of course which are really indispensable, such as a waterproof line, fine sound gut, a well-made check winch, a not too whippy rod of not under $ ft. 6 in. at the least, and of not over 11 ft. at the very most, together with an assortment of neatly-tied -flies dressed on hooks that will neither straighten out like a bent pin, nor snap like a dry stick of macaroni. But I have little belief in the virtues of sumptuousness in regard to the tackle*1 'mm FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 27 of the Dry Fly fisherman, or indeed of the fisherman generally. Years ago, in very callow angling days, I recollect spending many a sweet hour in fishing on the river Liffey. Being young and innocent, I laid in all manner of useless things—most useless of all, a scale!— with which to assail the perch, roach, and other coarse fish reported by the obliging tackle-maker to dwell in considerable shoals in the Liffey, a mile or two from Dublin City. The fine spoons, paternosters^ and many another tempting-looking lure and line, included in this collection, were the constant admiration and wonder of an aged and humble angler who was my sole companion in the water meadows. " Ah, faith," he would exclaim over and over again, " what entirely beautiful lines and hooks you have got, Sorr,—everything so pearfect!" Yet, despite all this wonderment, the aged one, with his shabby old home-made rod and his meagre assortment of hooks and the like, could invariably show fish at the end of the day, whilst the young angler had never a one. It is the fisherman that makes the tackle, more than the tackle the fisherman. Equally sceptical am I as to the use of giving lessons in casting on paper, and precise — 11, -■ \\mwjautKimr' -^^ -a 28 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY injunctions as to how to strike, play, and land the trout when hooked. Probably not one man in a thousand can learn how to cast a line, and how to deal with a trout when hooked —and before hooked—out of a book. You cannot cut and dry your Dry Fly fishing to this extent. For my part, indeed, I am inclined to believe that the best way to become an accomplished Dry Fly fisherman is, in these particular matters, to steer clear of teachers and preachers, either in the book or in the flesh, get down to the water, look out for rising trout, and hammer away till one is at length hooked and landed, after very many have been scared. The man who tries to get it all up, and master even that fearful and wonderful performance the * steeple cast," before he goes in pursuit of the trout, is too methodical by half; and if he ever does become an angler, it will very likely be the kind of angler who never casts more than three times to a fish, and who executes everything by strict rule. If it is impossible to give effective lessons by book in casting, striking, playing, and landing, it is only less difficult to give them, I have' sometimes thought, by word of mouth at the waterside. Few things are more likely to prove irritating to the angler who has the FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 29 idea of how things should be done, though clumsy as yet in his execution, than to have some one by his side incessantly directing him how to cast here or there, how to avoid the windr and how and when to strike. Advice as to the last-named process is perhaps the most useless and silly of all, as " the strike," which is scarcely more than a kind of twist of the wrist, when properly executed, and which is almost imperceptible, is a thing which must come intuitively. There are men who can give lessons in Dry Fly fishing, but they areiew and far between. The tendency of the teacher is nearly always to give too much advice, and to commence giving it before the learner has had the least chance of finding out for himself how the thing can be done. The man who has got the idea of the principles of Dry Fly fishing all right is in a fair way to teach himself how to kill his first brace of fair, rising trout, and when he has once done that, he will speedily get an insight into some of the delightful little details, some of the multitudinous devices for getting the best of wary trout in difficult places; devices for avoiding, for instance, that terror known as the " drag,"x 1 The " drag " is explained on pages 52-9 ; the " cocked * fly on page 122. fSjJK so THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY for making the fly " cock" up perkily and sail down stream as the natural one does, for fishing" the most forbidding-looking backwaters, and for avoiding vicious snags, branches, and riverside herbs that have a habit of growing in the most inconvenient places. Many of these devices are at times the despair of the angler, when an inability to carry them through pre*- vents his neatly presenting the artificial fly, dry and "cocked," to a bold-rising and heavy trout in a hopelessly difficult place; and yet were it not for these constant difficulties and disappointments the sport would be decidedly less fascinating than it actually is. In the difficulties of Dry Fly fishing lies in no small degree its charm, just as is the case in deerstalking, and in other sports and games. But though it may not be of real service either to make out lengthy lists of the rods, reels, and tackle generally which the angler should lay in against his first excursions into the realms of the Dry Fly, or to try to instruct him precisely as to how to handle the rod, and hook the fish, it will not do to assume that he knows exactly what "fishing the rise" means, or how it essentially differs from the older method. In explaining the method of " fishing FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 31 the rise" Dry Fly anglers usually find the best way to make the matter clear is to contrast the old and new styles; indeed, it is difficult to convey a perfectly correct idea of what Dry Fly work is, save by this comparison. If I can do so without offending the believers of the Wet Fly I shall be more fortunate than many who attempt to explain the difference between old style and new. In any case, it has already been conceded that the Dry Fly is quite out of place in many trout streams. As a matter of fact, the Dry Fly streams* though they have increased of late years, are still and ever must be in a decided minority; so that the believers in the old style have really small cause to feel aggrieved if in the case of a certain number of waters in the South and Midlands an unquestionable superiority be claimed for the new style. The best short description of the difference between Wet and Dry Fly fishing is that which describes the former as "fishing the stream," and the latter as "fishing the rise." In ordinary Wet Fly fishing it is the practically invariable rule to Use more than one fly. In addition to the fly at the end of the gut, called the " dropper," there are one or two other flies attached to the THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY cast a foot or so apart. Some use four flies, and as many as six are occasionally resorted to by anglers who appear to think that want of skill can be remedied by number of lures* Three flies, however, constitute the usual cast of the Wet Fly angler. As a rule he fishes down or across stream, and does not strike till he feds his fish. It is true many good anglers hold that it is much more deadly to fish even with the Wet Fly up-stream, inasmuch as, the fish having their heads up-stream, the tendency of the action of striking is to drive the hook into their mouths rather than pull it away from them; also, it is pointed out with equal truth, that the up-stream angler approaches his fish in a more workman-like manner, and is less likely at close quarters to scare the quarry before the flies are presented. But, on the other hand, the Wet -Fly angler who fishes upstream often cannot tell for the life of him, in the rapid-flowing water in which he angles, whether a trout has taken one of his flies or not, until he raises the rod for the next cast. It is not uncommon to hear in the ' billiard-room a player who has made a fluke remark candidly—" Nobody more surprised than the striker!" Nobody could have been FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 33 more surprised than the striker—who was the writer—when, fishing up-stream one August afternoon in the lovely little Lyn, within a stone's throw of wooded Watersmeet, he drew back the rod for a fresh cast, broke his top joint, and jerked out on to some dry stones a beautiful half-pound trout, the whole performance certainly not occupying more than a couple of seconds. More often the trout decamps under these circumstances, with or without a portion of gut cast, as the case may be, and the top joint remains. StiHTOven then it is not very satisfactory. As the line is floating down to the angler there can of course be no pull felt, and consequently, unless the rise has been actually seen—not by any means a certainty in rough water—both man and fish remain blissfully ignorant of the connection established between them, till the raising of the rod for the next cast, and as a result the sudden tightening of the line. Down-stream fishing, therefore, is the usual order of the day amongst Wet Fly men. The flies of course, when cast across stream and worked downwards, speedily sink out of sight. In some cases, according to the character of the water and the style of angling, no motion is given to the cast of flies, whilst in others they THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY are worked backwards and forwards by a slight up-and-down movement of the rod-point, the object of the movement being to deceive wary trout and prevent their too critically examining the flies to see if they are really worth eating, or whether they come out of a fishing-tackle shop. The Wet Fly fisherman does not, as a rule, cast his flies over a particular trout which he sees feeding. When he arrives at the riverside he at once proceeds to fit together the joints of his rod, and having selected the flies which seem adapted to the condition of the water and to the state of the weather, he runs the line through the rod rings, fastens on his gut cast, and gets to work. There may be no natural flies on the water and no fish moving at surface food, but this does not deter the angler from trying his fortune, and all the stickles, sharp runs, and places fitted for the Wet and Sunk Fly are duly fished. Naturally, if he does see a ring made by a rising trout, he casts into it, or as near as possible, and in the same way angles with care over a fish which he sees and deems at all likely to "take," even though it be not actually rising. It is not, however, the main business of the Wet Fly fisherman to look out for FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 35 rising trout or grayling, or to select particular fish to offer his flies to. He fishes the whole stream, or aU the likely-looking and accessible parts of it, and does not lay himself out to contrive the destruction of certain selected trout and grayling. It would probably not be too much to say that it is no more satisfaction to him to hook and land a selected feeding fish, than to hook in a rough bit of water a fish of whose existence, till the tug on the line came, he was perfectly unaware. This of course is the merest outline of the method of fishing for trout and grayling with a cast of Wet and Sunk Flies. Knowledge and skill are required to procure a good basket of trout or grayling on Wet Fly waters, and next to Dry Fly fishing, Wet Fly fishing is probably the most scientific of all branches of angling.1 So much for the Wet or Sunk Fly; now for 1 Pishing with the Dry Ply down-stream is usually called "drifting the fly." It is resorted to only when the angler cannot get into a position suitable for casting the fly just above the rising trout, or where an abominable " drag" militates against an up-stream cast. To " drift" properly in clear water when trout are big and well-educated is an exceedingly difficult and delicate process. It is for this reason probably that my friend P so greatly delights and excels in killing heavy fish by drifting the Dry Fly. 36 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the Dry and Floating one. The Dry FW fisherman never uses more than one fly on his cast at the same time, and never fishes down-stream when he can possibly fish up. It is the object of the Wet Fly angler, as we have seen, to make his flies sink below the surface; it is the object of the Dry Fly angler to prevent his fly from sinking below the surface. Directly it sinks, or shows signs of getting waterlogged, the Dry Fly angler removes it from the river, and dries it by what may be roughly described—I do not in the least believe that the procedure can be rightly described on paper—as a waving backwards and forwards of the rod in the air and over the shoulders. When a roaring wind is at one's back, and eyed hooks are not being used, this drying process, which has to be repeated after every cast, is sometimes excellent business from the point of view of the maker of artificial flies. In returning the rod too hastily after the wave backwards the line has a way of suddenly doubling over, and then it is that the tyro is surprised to hear a curious little sharp crack which he presently recognizes as a sure sign tliat the fly has gone. The salmon fisherman, to o, occasionally hears a somewhat similar sound, and knows its dreadful signification when rough FISHING THE STREAM AND^ THE RISE 37 stones and rocks are within easy casting range at his back. Still, whether the hooks be eyed, or whether the flies be tied on gut—which only a few Dry Fly anglers still ,use and prefer—the process must be gone through, and gone through thoroughly too, for unless the fly is dry it will never " cock " properly,—that is, never sit up properly on the water, its wings erect, like the natural insects of the Ephemeridce family, which are chiefly imitated for the purposes of this branch of angling. Here then are three radical differences between the two methods. Old method—several flies, always wet, usually down-stream; new method— one fly, always dry, nearly always up-stream. But there is an even more vital distinction to my mind than any of these three; namely, that conveyed in the expressions "fishing the stream" and " fishing the rise." The Dry Fly fisherman selects a particular fish and endeavours to deceive it, just as a gunner who is anything of a sportsman selects a particular partridge out of covey and shoots at that bird alone. He picks his fish often out of several which are rising within sight and easy range, just as the gunner picks his bird instead of firing into "the brown of them." It is an interesting enough ■".-•"■--.■ ■ - : " - --:--. I 38 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY sight to see a good sportsman mark dow^, follow up, and bag a brace or a couple of brace of birds which have scattered themselves in a little field of clover-heads or mustard. With what entire absence of fluster he covers the ground and brings to earth, possibly stone dead, each bird as it rises, never unduly hurrying and yet getting straight to work without the loss of a minute! But this performance is as nothing compared with that of the perfect Dry Fly fisherman, who, having marked several good trout rising within a short radius, picks them up one by one in the most masterful style, where an inferior hand would probably in playing the first scare all the others. The Dry Fly fisherman must strive to hold up the glass to Nature. It may be said that his success, or want of success, depends almost entirely on the accuracy, or want of accuracy, with which he imitates her. In the crystal-clear and sedately-flowing waters, where the method is adopted, grown-up trout are so astute and fastidious that they will not as a rule have anything to say to an artificial fly, unless it floats—or, to use the technical expression, "sails"—down with the stream, just as the natural fly, hatched in the water, does. This is the simple reason why FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 3& the Wet or Sunk Fly is usually so hopeless on regular Dry Fly streams. The theory—a plausible one enough—is that the Wet or Sunk "Fly is taken by fish under the impression that it is a dead or dying natural insect. But it may fairly be asked, does a dead or dying insect of the fragile order of, say, the Ephemeridce, become immersed beneath the water, and so be carried down or across stream with a succession of strange little jerks? Is there any fly fisherman and close observer of the life and habits of the water insects who can say that this is, according to his experience, a common occurrence in Nature ? We have all of us seen now and again a dead Dun on the water, and no doubt a certain proportion of these and other small insects do ultimately sink and get carried down-stream. Yet the proportion is probably infinitesimal, and, though the Spent Gnat—that is, the once gorgeous May-fly in its last shabby, emaciated condition— seems to be a particularly toothsome morsel to big trout at times, I am strongly inclined to believe that a drowned and sodden Dun is the sort of carrion at which a well-conditioned trout would usually turn up its nose. Besides, the dead small fly does not travel across and downstream exactly as the fly of the down-stream H1 40 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY fisherman does. I am getting, however, into very deep water, as all people are who address themselves to the problem of why the shyest and cleverest of all the fish that swim in British rivers, are on some waters, so easily imposed on by the Sunk Fly, which is frequently not even winged (hackle flies are often preferred by the Wot Fly angler to those with wings), and darts backwards and forwards under the surface of the stream in a truly amazing fashion, considering that it is supposed to be dead or in its last throes. I had better reel in my line. On the other hand, there is not the least room for doubt why the wary trout takes the dry and "cocked" fly as it floats over his nose. He rises and sucks it down because he takes it to be one of those juicy and attractive natural flies which he has noticed sailing down for a while past, and has been doing his little best to thin in numbers. Had that fly not been deftly cast by the Dry Fly artist on to the water a foot or so above his nose, and allowed to float down with not the least jerk or movement, save what the gentle stream imparted to it; had any portion of the line come well within the vision of the feeding trout; had the gut been FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 41 too coarse, or had it suddenly flashed in the sunlight; had a shadow from the top of the rod been but dimly perceived—there would probably have been a wave instead of that longed-for dimple, that tightening on the line a moment later, and that rod deliciously bent double ! Be sure that the trout would have broken-off his meal and fled precipitately to some dark and sheltered spot. In Dry Fly parlance, he would have been scared. I have roughly sketched in an earlier portion of this chapter the proceedings of the Wet Fly fisherman; how upon arrival at the riverside he fits up his rod, puts on his cast of flies, and gets straight to work, whether or no there are fish rising and natural flies on the water. It will now be well to give a few pictures of the Dry Fly fisherman at work, and see him " spot" a rise, stalk his fish, hook and ' kill it. The Dry Fly angler is not as a general rule a very early bird. He can do nothing without natural fly; and in my experience there are very few Duns or other water flies about till nine or even ten o'clock in the morning. If he is " on the water" by nine he is often inclined to pride himself on his 42 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY ill early hours. The first thing which the angler looks out for when he reaches the water is a rising fish. He may get his rod and tackle ready before he has seen the first rise of the day, but except for the sake of moistening the gut and straightening it out, he will not wet his line till ho does so over a feeding trout. As a consequence, when fish have not yet commenced to rise owing to the absence of fly on the water, it is common enough to hear one angler who has been out an hour perhaps say to another, " I have not wetted my line so far." There are some very keen fishermen, it is true, who when there is nothing doing will put a Dry Fly over any likely-looking place, just as the Wet Fly angler casts his lure on suitable bits of the stream; but they usually do it in rather a half-hearted manner, recognizing perhaps that one cannot fish on chance and at the same time keep an eye on a hundred yards or so of stream. The Dry Fly fisherman who is devoted to his art moves very quietly up or down stream out of sight of the fish, and with the point of his rod well down—for he knows full well that the sight of the rod is quite enough, where the banks of the stream are destitute of trees and other cover, to scare fish. FJSHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 43 To the casual and untutored eye he seems a mere loiterer, who only carries a rod for show. But, as a matter of fact, he rarely lifts his eyes from the water. His one absorbing desire is to "spot" a rising trout. For such a trout he looks, not in the middle of the stream, which the tyro selects as the most promising place, but right under the banks, and particularly at bends and little bays, into which the water being driven curls round and forms eddies and currents that run for a few feet or yards in an opposite direction to that of the-stream. It is here, in these corners neglected by the duffer, that the angler searches most for his trout, always keeping the while at a respectful distance from their lairs. But see! what possesses that sauntering angler whom you have noticed hanging about this half- hour or so, with apparently no more energy in him than sufficed to light and gently puff at his pipe ? The whole demeanour of the man has changed. He is keenly interested about something or other in connection with that sharp bend a little farther down stream, and yet instead of going straight to the place and satisfying himself that it is a fish, he makes a • strange little detour, going fully ten yards out into the meadow, then returning to 44 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the stream and taking up a kneeling position twenty yards below the spot that fascinates him so. For a minute he remains motionless, intently gazing at the water as it curls round the bend on his own side of the stream. Then he crawls on hands and knees for a few yards, and for the first time brings his rod into play. What does it all mean ? Why, this—that he thought he saw a rise at the bend under the bank, so instantly came down to get well behind his fish, then knelt down in order to "spot" a second tiny dimple, and thus satisfy himself as to the exact position of the rising trout. He has been stalking his trout, a process which requires much care and stealthy crouching movements at this point, since the banks are exposed and bare of cover. Had the angler walked erect to his present position he would have scared the trout and " set him down," i. e. frightened him off his-meai for an hour or more. He has nowT got as near to the trout as he dares, and makes a succession of casts in the air. Clearly this cannot be to dry the fly, because the line has not been in the water for the last half-hour. No, it is for the purpose of measuring the distance, because if the first cast were made with ill judgment, and the line FISHING T&E STREAM AND THE RISE 45 rather than the fly presented to the fish, the result would be a scared instead of a hooked trout. At length, after all these preparations, the angler lets his line travel straight out, and the fly alights on the water six inches above the spot where the two dimples have been seen. How can he judge so nicely seeing that the water is ever moving, and even changing slightly in appearance as it flows ? He can judge to an inch simply because he has noted that the dimples were exactly opposite, or immediately below or above, some blade of grass, or herb, which he has marked at the water's edge. The fly, having softly alighted on the stream, sails down' like the natural ones which are now hatching in small quantities. After it has sped down six inches towards the angler, there comes the third dimple, and next moment the rod is beautifully bent, and some line whirs off the reel with a music that is positively entrancing to the angling ear. The angler is on his feet now, and—never, mark you, dropping the point of his rod, save when the fish leaps clean out of the water— getting his net out in readiness after the first rush or two are over. In a couple of minutes from the time that third dimple appeared the i 46 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY first trout of the day is grassed, a beauty of a pound-and-a-half in weight, and well fed, as fish taken at this bend always seem to be. You may approach now and admire the fish, and note the fly—a Light Olive Dun—that at the first cast tempted the wary one. Before the operation the angler would certainly have protested had you come too near.1 1 Commonly after a neat piece of work and a success the angler is eminently approachable, and open to a little flattery. A few summers since a good fish took up its feeding quarters within a dozen yards of Dorothy Bridge, at Haddon Hall, in a little bay, which was almost completely cut off from the stream by reason of a large bough that had fallen from an elm tree, and sepurely riveted itself in the bed of the stream. The place was not more-than a yard in breadth by a couple of yards in length, and the trout lay at the head, where a tiny stream trickled in. It required some nicety to cast to the fish, as the foliage of the fallen bough on one side and the herbage of the bank on the other were rather hard to avoid; it was shallow water, too, and the fish a very wide-awake one. Several pessimists came and cast a little, but went away, saying that it was a hopeless place, and that even if the fish were hooked he must rush into the boughs and smash all. One quiet evening, however, I came down and assailed the trout for certainly the dozenth time. He had the fly in a moment, and dashed into the bough. I waited confidently for the smash, but wonderful to relate it never came. Instead, the fish chose to come back again with a great to-do, the most astonishing part of the thing being the way in which the gut got clear of the twigs, first one and then another, without the least assistance. Back in FISHING THE STREAM AND THE RISE 47 the bay, I made short work of the fish and he lay on the bank in less than a minute, as golden-hued and crimson- spotted a trout as you could desire to see, turning the scale as I found later at 1J lbs. Two artists hard by had been sketching the old bridge, and they rushed up in time to see the end. Said one of them, j I thought something had happened by the noise;" and he presently added, with obvious sincerity, " What a splendid tench!" CHAPTER III A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST The roughly outlined picture in the last chapter of an angler killing the first trout of the day, will serve to show that the capture of a fish by the Dry Fly method is quite a little history in itself. The trout had to be first of all discovered, then stalked, exactly located, and finally lured to his doom by the well-delivered first cast of a single dry, floating, and "cocked" imitation of the natural fly attached to the finest of gut. In this instance everything went right. The precise position of the fish was correctly ascertained, and the stalk, though needing care and the use of knees as well as hands, simple enough to an accomplished angler. Then the fish was evidently fairly on the rise; not taking a fly casually, and then for the next ten minutes leaving half-a-dozen other ones to float over his nose untouched. There was no hostile current to cause a " drag "; no difficult wind to drown the A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 49 fly, or prevent its being neatly presented to the trout; whilst, to cap it all, the trout took well and was securely hooked. If everything always, or even often, went so well, the trout would stand but a very poor chance against the cunning angler. Fortunately for the fish, and in our opinion for the angler too—though one is not wont to look on the matter in this philosophical spirit at the moment of failure—it is not so. Indeed, it is on the whole no unequal contest between trout and man, and in the case of big wary old fish in awkward places the odds are all against the rod, however skilled the hand that drives it. There are multitudinous little agencies in Dry Fly fishing constantly militating against the angler, which help to make the sport such an absorbing, fascinating one. Dry Fly fishing, like the game of chess, becomes more and more engrossing, as he who practises it grows more scientific and learns the many openings and variations. If there is the slightest sign of fish taking, an odd rise or two in an hour, the angler thinks nothing of remaining by the riverside from half-an-hour after breakfast till long past the late dinner hour. More than once in May-fly season a little band of anglers, including 'the writer, might have been found sitting down to their dinner in the 50 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY coffee-room at the Rutland Arms, Bake well, at ten o'clock—a dinner which had been kept hot since eight! Moreover I can well recollect that one season, when this shockingly irregular proceeding took place several times, there was scarcely a trout killed with May-fly to show amongst half-a-dozen rods, the fish declining the perfect insect and gorging instead on the larvce. Many and many's the time I have heard Bakewell Church clock strike eight—the hour at which I had ordered dinner—and yet guiltily gone on casting over a trout at the Rookery, or further down-stream toward old Haddon, though to barely see the fly on the water in the feeble light was a strain on the sharpest eye; this too after ten hours' hard work with the rod. Hard work is by no means an exaggerated term to apply to Dry Fly fishing practised with such thoroughness as this. It is not merely the exertion of drying the fly, which at times will blister the hand like rowing or sculling, that has to be taken into account, but the intense concentration needed in looking out for rises, and in assailing a trout in an awkward place. Everything went well with the angler who killed his trout in the last chapter, and it was A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 51 all plain sailing. He might not have been so soon successful, if successful at all, had he, for instance, instead of fishing his own bank, been compelled to attack the trout from the other side of the river. In some respects fishing across is preferable to fishing right up-stream. Our experience is that the fly usually I cocks " better in fishing across, nor does one need to be half so careful in stalking. One often fishes across, kneeling from habit rather than from necessity, in a trout stream of moderate size like the Wye at BakewelVor the Dove in Dove- dale. In fishing one's own bank, on the other hand, it is generally necessary to kneel, and to show no more than can be helped of the rod. Trout, as many anglers, Wet and Dry Fly alike, will at once admit, really appear at times, and in certain lights, to see almost as easily behind as in front. On the other hand, I have cast again and again to a trout directly opposite, and at a narrow part of the river too, feeling certain all the time that he must see me, and yet ended up by hooking and killing him. But what a cruel thing is that which has been most admirably named the " drag! " To see a keen angler striving long and earnestly to come to terms with an old sceptic on the opposite side of 52 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the stream, and being utterly baffled every cast by the " drag "—and it is usually when casting across that the " drag " is most deadly—is as the sight of a good man struggling with adversity. The " drag " is a comparatively modern discovery. Walton and Cotton probably never dreamt of it, and it may be safe to assume that it was not fully appreciated till the Dry Fly grew to be a recognized and distinct branch of angling. Articles, if not series of articles, have been written against it, and codes of rules have been drawn up by following which the angler is advised that he may minimize its evil effects. I am inclined to think, however, that like the poor the " drag " must always be with us. There are two distinct causes that lead to the " drag," the flow of the water and the blow of the wind, and the effect in both cases is the same,—namely, the setting- down of the trout, or at least his refusal to have anything to do with the artificial fly. A trout is rising splendidly right under the opposite bank, taking every fly within the radius of a foot. There is not the least reason to suppose that he will decline your perfect imitation, if it be presented naturally to him. He has taken up his position in one of those gentle little streams, which always seem the ideal places I w A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 53 down "which to float a nice Dry Fly. You present your fly to him dry as dry can be, and the moment it alights on the water it " cocks " up, so perfect in its mockery of the live insects that you may easily mistake it yourself for one of them. Ah, the trout sees it all right; lool$:, he comes to it open-mouthed almost, would not miss it on any account! But before he can seize the dainty morsel, it is whirled over and pulled .rudely away down-stream. The reason is this. The stream, being more rapid in the middle than where the trout is rising, gets a firm grip of the line almost directly it touches the water, and pulls it along much faster than the artificial fly is travelling in a less powerful current. Of course, directly this "drag " reaches the fly, and it does so in less time by far than it takes to write it, it carries the same violently away from the surprised fish, and takes all the "cockiness" out of it. When trout are in the least degree educated, this "drag" in the vast majority of cases decides them not to take the fly, and where they are what one may call over- educated it often has the effect of setting them down. It is not difficult for any one, who has closely studied the movements of trout in clear streams, to understand the offence a wary fish I IL 54 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY will take at the appearance of a " dragged " fly. Trout do not like even the natural insect to play any pranks on the water. It is a common sight to see a fish back down-stream closely attending a fluttering Olive Dun for a couple of feet or so, almost touching the insect with its nose the while, and yet ultimately decline to take it. The " dragged" artificial fly, however, is so dissimilar to anything in Nature, that the only marvel is a trout in decent condition, and above the size of a fingerling, ever takes it at all—a thing which does occur perhaps once in a thousand casts. It does not speak very well for the grayling that he does often take the " dragged " fly, and take it in preference, strange to relate, to the fly sailing down properly, at a time when he is actually feeding on the natural fly! Mr. Senior, and many other undoubted authorities, have a high opinion of the grayling as a sporting fish, and fight in his own peculiar style he assuredly can, which convicts Cotton of a complete error when he asserts that he is the " deadest-hearted " of fish; but it is poor fun, so far as my experience goes; to angle for him with the Dry Fly. I have never happened to kill a grayling on the Test or the Itchen, where they run very big, but on the Wye—a A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 55 noted North-country stream for the grayling— he is not esteemed at a high price by the Dry Fly angler. He there prefers wonderful and fearful objects known as Claret Bumbles and the like, worked on the Wet Fly method, to the neatest pattern of the Olive Dun that can be got for love or money. Often, it is true enough, the grayling will take the Dry Fly, and on bright, hot days take it freely; but he is so spasmodic, apt to prefer a bungling to a clever cast, and fond of getting on the hook when out of condition and season, that he has made a good many enemies. A grayling thoroughly out of condition is a quite disgusting object, and it is when they are in that state—black, and oozing with a nasty kind of milky-looking matter—that they are most likely to rise properly at the fly, like a trout. Some people affect to be always able to discriminate between the rise of a trout and that of a grayling. Commonly enough the rise of the grayling is unmistakable to even a week- old angler. A clever trout seems to rise as though he< were fearful lest a Dry Fly fiend might be lurking close to his lair, watching lynx-eyed for a ring of a feeding fish. He just dimples in a gingerly fashion, or sometimes draws in the fly with the gentlest suck, which S>6 THE BOOK OF TH% DRY FIT leaves no ring at all, but merely sends up a little bubble that floats down without leaving any indication of where the fish exactly lies. As a rule, the rise of sizable trout is a much more dignified and leisurely one in Dry Fly waters than that of the grayling. The latter fish does not, like the trout, when feeding on flies, take up a fixed position close to the top of the water, but instead he hovers about several feet below the surface, and comes almost straight up, with a bang as it were, at the natural or artificial passing over him. This, however, is not perceptible to the angler when he is fishing with a long line across or up-stream, nor with a short line where the water is deep and the light deceptive. Often one may angle for an hour or more for what looks all over a big trout both from rise and position, and ultimately hook an eight-inch grayling, or a sizable one in shocking condition. To return to the "drag." Water is the usual cause of it, but sometimes a harsh wind will prove an equally evil agency. A furious gust down, up, or across stream knocks over your fly, seizes the line or gut as it alights on the stream, and carries it just where it chooses. To do anything in this case, except k A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST W 1 try and preserve your equanimity and refrain from making vows to bundle all your fishing- tackle into the cupboard on return home and give up angling, is futile. But there are one or two ways of dealing with the ordinary " drag," Caused by a sharp stream between yourself and the trout, which come instinctively to every angler after a little experience. Sometimes instead of fishing across or up, where the "drag" is inevitable, it is practicable to "drift" the Dry Fly down. In this way the "drag" is avoided, because the fly has got a good start of the line, and is not therefore under its evil influence. Another way is to have a little loose line, and immediately the fly is on the water to pay this out, at the same time lowering the point of the rod even to the surface of the stream. By such a manoeuvre the line in the water is prevented for a few seconds from getting taut, and the fly is not turned over and pulled down quite so soon. There are often to. be seen splendid backwaters on Dry Fly streams that can only be fished from the bank opposite to the one under which they are situated, and fished across an exceedingly sharp stream. Here great trout cruise leisurely about the surfaee, their fins well-nigh out of water as T 58 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY they collect the freshly-hatched 01iv«L Duns, and as soon would they look at a " dragged " fly as at a fishing-bag. Hours are one sometimes tempted to spend in such spots casting and recasting, on the remote chance of one of these fish taking the fly the very moment it falls on the water, and before the irresistible stream carries it away. In such fastnesses of the river it is to be noticed that the trout are always most hearty feeders. They haunt these places for the express purpose of eating flies, and it is a treat to notice the business-like way they gather up the Duns which are washed thither in numbers during the hatch. Could one only get a decent fly to one of these inaccessible backwater trout, it would be taken without the slightest nonsense, and in the quiet orderly manner that obtains amongst such fish; but the thing is impossible. The "drag" is one of the greatest protections in rather fast-running streams that Nature affords the trout against the Dry Fly fisherman. But there are many other difficulties, which if not so constant as the "drag," are persistently cropping up, and making the contest between man and fish an evenly-matched one. In Wet Fly fishing, wind is not necessarily Hi A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 59 hostile to the angler. Many Wet Fly streams are most productive of sport on rainy, boisterous days, and in the case of some, as for instance the little Barle of Exmoor, the trout rarely take so well as during a snowstorm. I have seen fly hatching in considerable quantities, and trout rising fast and furiously at it, during a driving storm of snow and sleet on a raw April day, and noted steadily rising fish on an almost equally bitter day in the succeeding month, with a searching North-easter lashing the water at exposed points into miniature waves. Incessant practice, a cool temper, a weighty line, a good rod and a short one, will materially aid the angler to fish across or even in the teeth of a wind like this. But it is not inspiriting sort of work. One must constantly be losing sight of the fly on the disturbed surface of the water, and there can be nothing like accuracy under these conditions. Nor is this the kind of weather when one much cares for kneeling and crawling about in the grass. The slaughter amongst the trout on Dry Fly streams on roaring days is, therefore, nearly always a very moderate one. The ideal day for Dry Fly fishing is a windless, or a practically windless one. The 60 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY Dry Fly fisherman does not want to see a ripple on the water. He relies, or should rely, on deceiving the trout by other means. Sometimes a very slight wind, a series of little puffs, or a mere draught, proves as sure a spoil-sport as a miniature hurricane. It prevents one getting the fly with perfect finish to a trout rising in a shallow place where the smallest mistake arouses suspicions. The gut falls on the water with the fly and a foot of the cast doubled back, and off goes the trout as terrified as though a boulder had been flung at him. It is in the defeat of these machinations of the wind that a perfectly tapering line and gut-cast, and also a line perfectly adapted to the rod, are so indispensable. A too light line, or a line too heavy for the rod/will make the angler feel that he must be the clumsiest hand possible at casting, whereas in reality he is only suffering from shortcomings or bad combinations in his gear. As already stated, I have little faith in the power of fine tackle to make a fine fisherman ; but it is not well to grudge time and trouble on the business of getting well suited as to rod and line, which can usually be best done by thrashing out the matter for oneself at the riverside. I have often been forced to fish A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 61 without a properly tapering gut-cast, owing to breakages which had to be roughly repaired on the bank, and often in the least possible time when they occurred in the midst of a good rise of fish. The difference in these cases is nearly always felt where a long cast is necessary, or where the wind is very adverse, the more so if one has been fishing for some while past with a perfectly tapering cast. Comparatively few anglers are ambi-dexterous, yet to be able to fish Dry Fly with left as well as right, and the reverse, is a most useful accomplishment. The back-handed cast is usually made by right-handed anglers to do service for the left, but there are instances where it is futile. Take the case of an angler who wants to get at a fish rising right under his own bank, when of course the natural hand to grasp the rod is the one nearest the stream. Well, in this instance the stream hand is the left. There is a vicious little wind blowing, the tendency of which is to get possession of the fly and carry it with a portion of the cast right back on to the bank. The ambi-dexterous angler uses his left arm—or rather wrist, from which all casting should be done—and gets the fly to his fish right enough. 62 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY The angler who cannot use his left has t« resort to a back-handed cast, often effective enough, but here absolutely useless. The fly is swept back on to the bank at every cast, until it presently catches into the stem of some obstinate water herb, or into the soil itself, and there must be a breakage or else a scared fish. Occasionally it is possible to crawl to the spot where the fly has caught, and stretching out one arm cautiously grope about—the raising of the head would assuredly scare the fish— till the hook is found and set free. But the attempt seems scarcely worthy of the trouble, when one knows that even if it be successful, the fly will get fixed again within the next few casts. The facility with which a fish-hook attaches itself securely to things other than trout is very remarkable. When left to dangle from the point of the rod, as the angler moves leisurely along searching for rises, it has a knack of burying itself into the back of the coat, and the back of the trousers or knickerbockers, out of which it has to be cut with the scissors. But this is nothing. Most anglers have a tale to tell of how they have hooked a cow, pig, or dog. I have seen a keen angler hook himself in the lip, and, not being able to extract A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 63 the hook, cut off the gut attached to it, and Dry Fly on till the end of the day, when he repaired to a local doctor who lanced it out. As the season advances, and vegetation grows denser, the hook is very apt to seize hold of one of the innumerable bents, which flourish in the meadows before the tall mowing grass has gone down before the scythe. In casting from the knees it is next to impossible to avoid catching a stiff bent or grass-head every now and then. The gut, too, will get entangled in the grass and the water herbs in a rather exasperating manner. But what are these trifles to set against the delight of angling in a placid, crystal stream in the unbounded wealth and plenitude of summer ? To be out in the fields at such a season, far away from the dusty roadside, from the feverish activity of city life, is in itself a thing to be devoutly desired; to be a-trouting is simply to be blessed. "I never see," writes Howitt in his Rural Life of England, " a clear stream running through the fields at this beautiful time of year, but I wish like old Izaak Walton to take rod and line and a pleasant book and away into some sylvan or romantic region, and give myself up wholly to the influence of the 64 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY season; to angle, and read, and dream by the ever-lapsing water, in green and flowery meadows, for days and weeks, caring no more for all that is going on in this great and many- coloured world, than if there was no world at all beyond . . . truly that good old man had hit on one of the ways to true enjoyment of life." Howitt, like Jefferies, had in him the true instincts of an angler. As for the book it would only have been for show. The sunlight dancing on the water and piercing the deep shade of the sycamores and oaks by the stream- side, puts out print, so Jefferies found, as it does the fire, v In the contest between the Dry Fly fisherman and the trout, sunshine is one of the things which by no means necessarily tells in favour of the fish. With stained and very fine gut you can often kill fish far more easily even in the full glare of the day than on a dull day when a nasty wind is blowing down-stream. Bright sun is only necessarily bad for the angler when it stops the hatch of fly. In the hottest hours of a burning summer day there is not much of a hatch of fly, and the fish stir but little ; provided, however, there is fly, which the fish are feeding on, a cloudless sky need by no means discourage I ) A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 65 the angler. I recollect fishing a small North- country stream a few years back on perhaps the hottest day on which I have ever handled a rod, though it was well before midsummer. At about two o'clock it was nearly intolerable, yet some fish rose then, and then only during the day. With the Dry Fly I hooked and landed four nice trout, which all rose well and fearlessly in water very low, crystal clear, and with scarcely any stream.1 There seem to be lights in which it is more difficult to stalk and deceive a trout than in the dazzling and down-pouring sun. Angling one bright day towards the end of May in a stretch of the Ver, a few miles from St. Albans, I made some experiments, as there was not the ghost of a rise to be seen all the afternoon, with a view to learning how near it was possible to get to big trout lying in mid-stream, or near it, without scaring them. By moving very gently, almost imperceptibly, I was able to come to the very edge of the stream immediately opposite the fish, and within a distance of 1 " April 12, 1814. Longparish. Went out fly fishing, and notwithstanding a bright sun the whole time I in a few hours killed thirty-six trout. N.B. My flies were (what I always use) the yellow dun at bottom and red palmer bob." (From Colonel Hawker's Diary.) J 66 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY three yards, or thereabouts, apparently without being observed. The power of the sun was intense, enabling me, though the Ver water is not absolutely of the clearest, to see with ease every weed at the bottom of the stream; nor was there any cover to speak of. The trout on this stretch of the Ver run very large, rarely take a small Dry Fly, and do not indeed commonly take any fly at all till dusk; but had they been inclined to feed on that particular afternoon I certainly ought not to have found the difficulty of deceiving them in the brilliant sunshine insuperable. Is it not conceivable that the trout's eye is liable to be dazzled by the sun like the angler's? Provided you can get the Dry Fly neatly to the trout, and provided the trout is feeding, you really need not greatly concern yourself as to whether the light is dull or dazzling, as to whether the wind is^ east, north, south, or west. This may seem rather a startling and heterodox theory to some anglers whose creed in this matter is that of the old school, which held that east wind or brilliant sunlight were always bad, and south wind and cloudy day always good. It is certain that the most promising-looking days often turn out the least m A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 67 productive in Dry Fly fishing, and the least promising the most productive. But there is a certain atmospheric condition which seems to tell against all methods of fly fishing alike. We have all experienced this condition, and have felt that whilst it continues there is little chance of good sport. Mr. Halford has described it as follows:—" Now what is a bad light? It is when the entire hemisphere of the sky is of one heavy, grey, dull leaden colour; when the very light itself seems to have become imbued with this sad leaden tinge; when the water appears unnaturally clear, probably from its contrast with the dull grey tint of all its surroundings; when every object in the water, whether trout or grayling, whether banks of green weed, or patches of light clean gravel between the weeds, is distinctly visible from an extreme distance. Such a day in early spring is cold, and in summer and autumn is oppressive, sultry, and productive of headache and other malaise in human beings; and on such a day I have never seen a good hatch of duns, nor do I ever remember on such a day good sport to have fallen to my lot or to that of any other angler on the same stream." He adds that THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY probably such a day is almost invariably a precursor of a change in the weather, and that fish seem always to go off the feed at the first signs of such a change, and wait until the change has taken place before coming on the feed again. And yet I should scarcely care to guarantee that the fish would wait, if on such a day a hatch of fly were to unexpectedly take place. The difficulties referred to, namely, the " drag" and fishing against an adverse wind, are far from being the only ones that in the contest between angler and trout tell in favour of the latter. There are the abhorred habits of trout, known only too well to every Dry Fly fisherman who has had a season's experience, of "tailing" "bulging," "rising short." and. " smutting." or " cursing " with which it will be convenient to deal later on, though it may be remarked in passing that the last-named habit does not imply any greater irreverence on the part of the trout than that of treating with a fine contempt any and every artificial fly the angler sets before him. Then too, the fineness of the gut invariably used by good Dry Fly fishermen is a factor indeed in the situation when a three or four-pound trout has been successfully stalked, deceived, and A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 69 hooked, in a place abounding wTith snags and dangerous bushes that overhang the water. " Oh me, look you, Master, a fish, a fish; oh! 'las ! Master, I have lost her!" quaintly exclaims Venator, in a single breath, in the Compleat Angler ; to whom Piscator, with just a suspicion of self-assurance, replies—I Ay, marry, Sir, that was a good fish indeed; and if I had had the luck to have taken up that Rod, then 'tis twenty to one he should not have broke my line by running to the rod's end as you have suffered him : I would have held him within the bent of my Rod (unless he had been fellow to the great Trout that is near an ell long, which was of such length and depth that he had his picture drawn, and now is to be seen at mine Host Rickabies at the George in Ware)." Twenty to one would be a dangerously long price to lay on an angler against a three-pounder, or for the matter of that a two-pounder, in some of the Wye backwaters. Alas, how often has it been my fortune to hook a good fish of considerably under the latter weight, after many fruitless attempts, only to lose him a few seconds after striking ! With a furious rush he has fled to some stronghold under a great root, or in snags and dense weeds, and smashed the gossamer gut as though it were n 70 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY no stronger than a single hair. In awkward places the odds, I am inclined to think, are usually on the; fish, if a heavy and well-conditioned one, for besides the danger of a smash there is always a great chance of an entanglement that frees the fish from the fly, unless he happens " to be very securely hooked. After a certain amount of experience, the angler can often tell intuitively whether or no a fish is firmly hooked, but it sometimes happens that the trout, after being completely played out, drops off the fly and sinks into the depths, even as the landing- net is placed in the water. It is a curious thing that, however seemingly dead beat, a trout always has just enough energy left to avail himself instantly of this mishap, and depart before the net has. enclosed his shining sides. A series of instantaneous photographs of the angler's face and attitude at these moments would add something to the gaiety of nations. Mr. Bromley Davenport, in his Sport, gives an account of the struggle of his life with a gigantic Norwegian salmon, which dropped off the hook and rolled feebly away: into the depths at the moment the gillie was stretching out the gaff. The man was paralyzed by the horror of the mishap, else even after the salmon was A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 71 unhooked he might have secured it. Though I have always " stretched lame hands" on such an occasion, I have never come near to recovering a once-released trout. Probably there are very few people who can say that they have ever been successful in landing a trout after the hold of the hook has given, though the case may be different in regard to coarse fish. Salmon too may no doubt be occasionally secured after the hold of the hook has given way, by a dexterous use of the gaff in shallow water. The greatest difficnrty-the1 Dry Fly fisherman has to contend against is after all neither the I drag" nor the wind; neither the habits of the trout known"> as "tailing," "cursing" or "smutting," and "rising short," nor the snags and weeds which break the gut on the hold of the hook; but rather the extreme distaste with which the trout so often regards the lures of the angler, resemble they never so closely his natural food. We hear a great deal in these Dry Fly days about the education of the common trout, and when two or more anglers are gathered together, it is.a great chance if they do not begin and end with this topic. That the trout of to-day in the Test, Itchen,. and Derbyshire Wye —to select three most famous streams—are 72 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY much more difficult to entice with an artificial fly than they were three-quarters of a century, half a century, nay a quarter of a century ago, really does not admit of the least question. Take the first of these three streams, and examine some of the extracts from the diary of that old sporting worthy, Colonel Hawker of Long- parish. The Colonel's fame rests rather on a shooting than an angling basis, but, all-round sporting worthy that he was, he could evidently fish with the best of them, and only laid aside the gun to handle the rod. Here are some fishing notes from his Diary, published by Messrs. Longman a few years back, that give us a good idea of how Test trout behaved when the century was young— "April 15, 1814—28 trout. April 16—24 trout (average weight 1 lb. each, and many weighed 1J lbs.). Also a great many fair-sized ones which I threw in. I had all this admirable sport in less than two hours and a half. ... In the evening I was ludicrously amused with throwing a fly on horseback, which answers as well as on foot. April 18—15 trout. April 23—21 trout. April 26—16 trout. A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST April 27—12 trout. April 28—13 trout. Average weight lj lbs. each fish. April 29—14 trout. April 30—17 trout, which make up in eleven days' angling 100 brace." The Colonel, it is to be noted, was in the habit of putting back everything under § lb. Nineteen years later the Test fishing seems to have in no way deteriorated, to judge by an entry in his Diary that tells of a fishing expedition with two gentlemen who had " unexpectedly popped in." In a little over four hours the three rods put together a total bag of a hundred fish. Further, on September 9, 1837, the Colonel had a " most glorious bit of sport." The first three fish he landed scaled 6J lbs., and in all he brought home 22 fish. "I was about four hours at it, and left the water when they were taking like bull-dogs, because I thought it a shame to kill more than I knew what to do with." Now Colonel Hawker fished, as may be gathered from an extract already quoted, with a couple of Wet Flies, " yellow dun at bottom and red palmer bob," which I am rather disposed to think would be only effectual at Longparish to-day in setting down a number of rising trout, even if attached to gut much finer than was 1 74 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY ever used in those times. Moreover, just fancy fly fishing in Test now-a-days from horseback ! Why, you would scare the fish out of their lives, unless you could cast a perfect reelful of line. As for the bags taken collectively, they sound almost fabulous to Test .fishermen of to-day, if it is to be assumed that the fish were in anything like a decent condition; though it should be added that in good May-fly seasons even at the present time some noble dishes of trout are put together by good fishermen. Within very much more recent times, a bag of ten brace of good trout on the Derbyshire Wye out of May-fly season was by no means an astonishing feat; and in the days when this bag was a comparatively ordinary one-amongst skilful anglers, say a dozen or fifteen years since, the Dry Fly method was yet but in its infancy on this glorious stream. -Wet Fly anglers, could then put together a good enough bag most favourable days,' instead of hooking, as they would do now, perhaps one sizable trout, a brace or so of grayling, and a: number of sprats which only . the ; snob keeps. The lower Wye when I first knew it was' deteriorating:rapidly, owing in a large degree to.the way>in which it was being over-fished y and .to the fact j that i the stock of trout, was not sufficiently-replenished. A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 75 It has now decidedly recovered, and during the last season or two they who know how to use the Dry Fly properly have enjoyed something like the sport which was to be got there in past times. Yet it is not to be supposed that rods were very rare in the days when ten brace Was a possible bag on a good day on this length of the Wye. I have seen a little book containing some sort of record of the number of rods, day by day, on the Bakewell length, at a period when the Dry Fly had never been heard of in Derbyshire or elsewhere, and it shows that the place was then a popular fishing resort. Before there was a railway station at Bakewell there were anglers and to spare. The Rutland Arms in those times laid itself out to accommodate anglers .who came thither year after year, and what is more killed trout. Shenstone, had he lived later, might have been thinking of this solid, homely old hostelry when he wrote the famous lines— " Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome at an inn." 1 Thus a friend, wrote to . me, from Bakewell during present.season, "Have had good sport considering low and clear water, and that it is the eye of the May-fly—29 brace in 6 days." e r 76 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY So far as I can gather, anglers came and went in a pretty steady stream to Bakewell even from the time of which Colonel Hawker's Diary tells, and got sport, though it should be noted that during the " May-fly Carnival" they angled with the natural fly—as is done on the Dove at the present time—and probably, when the spirit moved them, did not hesitate to resort freely to baits other and grosser than the natural fly, that if used even now would be deadly enough. Whether these ten-bracxr men of old time killed their fish with Wet Fly in the backwaters, is certainly a question which before replying to in the affirmative one would need to have some reliable information concerning. My own belief is that a trout in condition would have thought twice before even looking at a Wet or dragged fly in a backwater fifty years ago, as he does to-day; but this will be regarded as a lesser matter, or as a side issue, by those anxious to see some light shed on the question of whether or no the trout of to-day are wiser fish than their ancestors. Colonel Hawker and old Wye hands still living are not the only witnesses to the fact that the bags of yore on Hampshire and Derbyshire waters were, despite the comparative want of A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST^ 77 science in the method of angling, heavier than those of to-day. The same tale is told by many other anglers concerning many other waters. It is true we must sometimes make allowances for a pleasant tendency on the part of those well advanced in years to colour the long past with a rosy tint. Then again, it is well to bear in mind that every angler begins the day an optimist, but that many have a way of ending it pessimists. Their expectations have not been realized, and it is then that they are inclined to lay mournful stress on the deterioration in sport, and to make dire predictions as to the lot which awaits the angler of fifty or a hundred years hence. Still, after allowance has been made for these things, and for such mild exaggerations as Colonel Hawker probably indulged in when in the hour of triumph he suggested that it was as.easy to kill Test fish on horseback as on foot, there is enough reliable testimony left to assure us that the trout on many waters do not rise to the fly so freely as they did in the past. I have no hesitation in saying that this is the case, for instance, in regard to the Test, the Itchen, the lower lengths of the Derbyshire Wye, and the Dove. On private lengths, on 78 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the other hand, of one or two of these streams, and in the splendid trouting waters of Hertfordshire—which both in regard to the size and number of its trout, and the charming character of its streams, is in the very front rank of English angling counties—where the stock has been well kept up, bags are probably about as good as ever, if fish are not quite so easily beguiled. Now what is the reason of this falling-off in bags, or in other words of this greater reluctance of the trout to take the fly? One theory is that the trout has gradually become, through its incessant pursuit by the angler, a wiser creature: that from the free riser and bold biter, which he was in Colonel Hawker's time, he has grown to be a suspicious fish, prone to most critically examine the artificial flies of the angler, and to reject those which do not exactly correspond with tho natural ones. This intelligence, or education, as the Dry Fly angler calls it, has been transmitted to him from his forefathers of generations back, who were in their day incessantly pursued by the angler, and often pricked by his hooks. If this theory be correct the Dry Fly angler is sharpening the wits not only of the trout he angles for, A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST . 79 but of unborn generations of fish ; he is making a high order of intelligence hereditary in trout, In his Animal Intelligence Mr. Gr. T. Romanes observes, " with reference to the general intelligence of fish, allusion may first be made to the marked increase of wariness in waters which are much fished. This shows no small degree of intelligence, for the caution is proved to be the result of observation by the fact that young trout under such circumstances are less wary than old ones." Mr. Romanes, it will be seen by this passage, evidently does not believe in intelligence in a fish being handed down to its offspring. Sir Herbert Maxwell, writing recently on the subject of trout education, pointed out that the intelligence displayed by a trout must be the result entirely of its own observation; it could not, he urged, be transmitted, because the trout fry are not watched over and reared by their parents, as young birds and animals are. But this in itself scarcely rebuts the theory of the education of the trout in our Dry Fly streams having now become hereditary. Nor does Mr. Romanes seem to take up a very strong position when he asserts that because young trout are less wary than old ones in much-fished streams, the intelligence of the 80 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY latter is therefore the result of their owfy observation. Surely, however clever the young trout were born, he would not thoroughly develop in intelligence, any more than he would in body, until he had come to years of discretion.1 Still, whilst differing from the line of reasoning adopted by these two writers, I should greatly hesitate before accepting the theory that the great wariness and power of discrimination between natural and artificial flies, now shown by trout, has been acquired through heredity. It is safer, perhaps, to seek for an explanation in such causes as the great increase in the number 1 It is certain that trout are born exceedingly fearful. Long before they have become "yearlings," when indeed they are in the inch or two-inch fry stage, their shyness is intense. I recollect being pointed out, by the late Mr. Andrews, at Crichmere, several little ditches containing fresh running water. They were, he remarked, full of fry. Yet for some time not a single one could we see. After a while, on turning a short corner, we came upon a dozen or so of these midgets, which fled with almost incredible rapidity, and hid their tiny selves in the weeds, or in the broken water underneath a miniature dam. Ery are indeed tremendously alert little creatures. Were they otherwise, their chance of ever attaining the proportion of a yearling would be infinitesimal, for trout, being the most appalling cannibals, make not the slightest distinction between their own offspring and those of other fish. Like the little wood in Maud, the trout stream is "a world of plunder and prey." A NOT UNEQUAL CONTEST 81 of fishermen, the want of water in many chalk streams where formerly there was commonly an abundance, the way in which mills are inces- " santly interfering with the flow of the water (thereby disturbing the trout and putting them off their rise), the constant cutting of weeds and the netting out of coarse fish (which operations also exercise a disturbing influence on the trout), possibly the stocking of streams with too many artificially-reared yearlings, which have been fed when in captivity on chopped horse-meat instead of May-flies and March-browns, and finally the way in which the Dry Fly fisherman selects one particular trout, and, assailing it for perhaps hour after hour, and even day after day, does not desist till he has either put it in his creel, or else by pricking, or even playing it several times, made it suspicious for some time to come of anything in the form of a floating insect. It is somewhat of an irony that Dry Fly fishing, which was primarily resorted to because it was the only sportsmanlike way of killing shy fish in clear streams, is now to be regarded as one of the things which help to make the trout more wary than ever: it was the result of wariness in trout, and is now to some extent the cause ! CHAPTER IV CONCERNING BOTH GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS No complaint has been more rife amongst Dry Fly anglers during the last few seasons than the dearth of natural fly on the water, and—as we have seen—in the case of some well-fished clubs and subscription lengths, the habit sizable trout have got into of not rising properly at what Duns there are. " No fly anywhere " is the report one hears in many quarters in regard to southern streams. This is not to be taken quite literally, but in a broad sense it is unquestionably too often true. The total sum of our knowledge about aquatic fly life is ^so very small, that to discuss the possible natural causes of this shortness in the supply of Duns—the last few seasons have seen the May-flies out in large quantities—^ is but to grope in the dark. All we know for certain about the exact natural influences which produce a large or a meagre supply of the GMOSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS smaller members of the Ephemeridce family, is that we know next to nothing. This scarcity of Duns in various streams is usually attributed to certain unfavourable atmospheric conditions. But may not the dearth be sometimes attributable to causes other than an unfavourable atmospheric state—to preventable causes, such as the incessant tampering with the bed of the stream and the wholesale cutting of weeds, customs which are encouraged on some waters? This constant raking of the river is not at all unlikely to militate against there being an abundance of aquatic fly life. Nature sometimes has a habit of resenting incessant interference with her methods on the part of man. At any rate, this is a matter which owners of fisheries and members of club-waters might do worse than look into, when they find themselves season after season wofully short of fly. The way in which weed-cutting is sometimes carried out is, quite apart from the question of whether it affects the hatch of Duns and other water flies, worthy of all censure. Instead of nice lines and patches of green weed being left as hiding-places for the trout, and, it may be added, for the shrimp and other creatures that are so good as fish food, the whole growth is 1 r 84 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY frequently cleared away by the cutters. Anything uglier and more uninteresting than the bed of a clear stream after this wholesale clearance has been effected can scarcely be imagined. Moreover, it necessarily wastes a great deal of water, that most precious commodity on the southern chalk streams; for weeds, like dams, help to hold up the stream. Dearth of fly is almost necessarily fatal to the Dry Fly fisherman, though there can certainly, on the other hand, be such a thing as overabundance of it. During the last few years of the existence of the Hungerford Fly Fishing Club, it fell to my lot each season to fish the water on several occasions out of May-fiy time, and I found by experience that it was practically useless trying the Kennet till the evening, when the Sedge began to appear. There was no hatch of fly in the day-time, and there were no rises to speak of. I used, therefore, to repair to the Marsh Waters, as the upper reaches of the beautiful and interesting little stream, the Dun, are called. The Dun was happily left to itself more than the Kennet, it being esteemed a mere water of ease, as it were, to the main stream. Some time during the day I generally found a little hatch of fly there, and killed a y[_ GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 85 trout or so. The Dun in the Marsh Meadows is a most typical trout brook, such a one as Tennyson perhaps had in mind when he wrote— HI murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses: I linger by my shingly bars, I loiter round my cresses." In my favourite spot, where waders were not required save in times of flood, there was not the least scrap of cover, not a rush, a thistle, nor a friendly fern, and the water was clear as clear could be. One had to-creep about on hands and knees, and even then keep at a good distance from the edge of the stream, which was practically without banks and extremely shallow. Prettier sport than that afforded by the little Dun would be hard to imagine, and the fish that I killed there were beauties, golden-hued, owing to the fine yellow gravel of which the bed of the stream is composed. At sunset I would return to the Kennet, and wait for the appearance' of the Sedge. It .may be we shall ultimately discover that shortness of fly! in. the day-time is more or less preventable. But the "disinclination the trout often , displays to feeding on the Duns, and the May-flies 'too, in the. sub-imago and imago 11 ■ 86 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY states, is what we cannot cure. Now. there are three well-known and distinct habits of feeding trout, all of which are frequent, and all of which invariably prevent the filling of the angler's creel or bag. I give them somewhat in their order of demerit—namely, "bulging," "tailing," and " smutting " or I cursing." The 1 bulging" trout appears to the casual or unsophisticated observer an earnest, straightforward fish, taking winged flies of some kind or other. Accordingly he sets to work drying and casting his fly to the trout with great hopefulness, which is only sensibly diminished when he discovers that the eccentric fish will not deign to take the faintest notice of any of the many varieties of flies, hackle and winged, he selects from his book and tries one after another. Finally he leaves the trout after he has blistered his hand over it, and settles down with a fresh supply of confidence to a second fish which is rising splendidly a few yards off. This second trout is as blind to the artificial Duns, Spinners, Wickhams, Quill Gnats, and Alders, as was the first; and it frequently happens that the third, fourth, fifth, and in fact all the moving trout in the stream, show equally bad taste. At dinner-time the tyro, GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 87 after an experience like this, tells us that there was a splendid rise of fish where he was angling, but that he unfortunately oould not find out the right kind of fly: if only he had, he could have filled his creel without stirring more than fifty yards from one place. Do not be too severe on that tyro; remember that a " bulging " trout is very like a fairly rising trout to all save the experienced angler, and that even he will occasionally be imposed on for a few minutes when there is plenty of natural fly on the water. A trout is described as_"bulging" when he is taking the nymphce of the Duns or May-flies just beneath the surface, and consequently just before they hatch out into the subimago state. To catch the tasty morsel before it reaches the surface, and bursts through its husk, evidently requires activity on the part of the fish. He cannot stay in the same place and lazily draw in his food as when he is taking Duns in a slow-flowing backwater, but must needs rush hither and thither, a foot or more each time perhaps, and seize his victims in the nick of time. These quick movements close to the surface make a commotion in the water, and 'very often indeed this commotion is quite similar to that caused by a fairly rising trout. a \ ■'■'' \ , 88 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY I have frequently seen a trout " bulging" in exactly the same place time after time, over no doubt a particularly good find of nymphce, and it is a fish like this which may now and then^ deceive even an old hand. A " bulging" trout usually takes no notice of the natural insect floating down over him, as he prefers one course of the piscatorial menu at a time. But though hours and hours may be spent by an accomplished angler over " bulging" trout without adding anything to the contents of the creel, it does sometimes happen that you end up by getting a rise and killing your fish. I have known a "bulging " fish come at a small Red Palmer on the Ver, and other bright flies, or small monstrosities, will now and then prove attractive. At other times a trout feeding on nymphce will suddenly take it into that odd head of his to pick off a floating Dun or two, by way of a slight change, and when in this mood for a few instants he may be coaxed into trying the artificial. On various Dry Fly waters I have observed that trout will not uncommonly devote half-an-hour or so to the floating insects, and then end up their meal with nymphce. When the May-fly first appears it often happens that GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 89 most of the trout, whether in open stream, backwater, or amongst the bushes and trees, steadily " bulge ". for days together; and then, having apparently grown sick of the nymphce, turn their attention to the floating insect. It no doubt takes trout a little time to become accustomed to the fully fledged May-fly, though when they, do grow used to it they. certainly know how to "let themselves go." It.is not gratifying to get a couple of days' fishing in. the cream of the May-fly season on some of the best water in the country, and to find that on those two days the trout confine themselves to the practice of "bulging." When time is up, and you sadly retire, you are sure to hear a little later on that Brown, the veriest duffer, killed ten brace of grand fish the day after you left, and that Jones returned everything under 2 lbs. to the water. ■ ; ft ^.vik* ; The question is, what is the best thing to do with "bulging" trout? Some recommend a remedy for the evil in a bright-coloured or fancy fly,1 and that such will occasionally prove effective, I have myself discovered on the Ver. 1 Mr. Halford recommends a gold-ribbed Hare's Ear as about'the: best fly, owing to its being possibly mistaken by the fish for a nympha. ^^^1 j THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY But the remedy is very far indeed from being a sovereign one, and on the whole it is my belief that it is hardly worth trying, even in those extreme cases when every trout moving is confining its attention to the nymphce. It is better to seek out a trout that is after the winged insect, or even assail at "bulging" fish with a good imitation of whatever ephemera is hatching out, on the chance of ultimately getting a rise. Obstinate as "bulging" fish are, you can never say for certain that they wJU not suddenly come on at the winged insect. Some anglers entertain a theory that " bulging" fish may be attracted by an ordinary sunk artificial with its wings cut off, which is held to give it a resemblance to the nympha. But in practice the theory does not work out, for even if you could exactly imitate the nympha, you could not impart to it the necessary movement in the water. Keep to the Dry Fly, or leave the " bulging" trout alone. One word more on this subject, and I have done. A trout feeding on nymphce will, especially in shallow water, often follow the artificial Dun, May-fly, or Spinner, with evident curiosity, several feet down-stream, and follow, or come and glance at it, again and again. "HIS I GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 91 When a trout does this, never abandon all hope of hooking him. I have heard people say, " Ah, it's no good ; he followed the fly, but refused it. Don't waste time over him." In my opinion this is bad advice. Whilst a trout will follow, or glance at, your fly, there is always a real chance of getting him. A fresh fly, or a little rest, will often bring him to hook. The "bulging" trout is known on all Dry Fly streams; but the " tailing" trout is much less common. It is in the shallow streams of Hertfordshire and elsewhere that the "tailer" is most frequently to be observed. In plunging his head downwards into the weeds in search of shrimp, snail, and food of that kind, his tail breaks the surface of the water: hence the name "tailer." It is very likely that trout in many, indeed in all streams where there is plenty of weed and food of the shrimp and snail order, rummage about in the same way as we see them doing in the Hertfordshire and Hampshire waters. But they are not noticed except in shallow waters, because their tails do not break the surface of the stream. My experience is that a "tailing" trout is much easier, as a rule, to entice than a "bulging" trout. He must be fished for with a long 92 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY line down-stream, and the fly worked with a series of little jerks, somewhat as in salmon fishing. The fly should be cast just above where the head of the trout is adjudged to be, and worked into the angler's bank, and it must never be kept still, otherwise the fish will at once perceive the deception and decline it. Even where there is plenty of ripple and a strong stream, the fly must be worked backwards and forwards; but under these conditions it is naturally.easier to deceive the fish. In bright, slow-running water, a big "tailing" trout will often follow the fly with a wave that brings the heart of the young angler almost into his mouth, but, alas! though he may follow several times, if not scared, he will assuredly keep a respectful distance from the lure. There must be no striking until the fish is felt, even though the angler be almost certain that he has taken the fly. On one or two streams, like the . Upper Lea, "tailers" are to be seen any,day, and often in numbers, up to and over 4 lbs. in weight, and when there is no proper rise at Duns, Dry Fly anglers are constrained to look out for a tail, just as they do ordinarily for a rise. ( To kill "tailers" in broad daylight land in low water is quite k r 111 i: DRESSINGS OF TWELVE DRY FLIES, DRESSED WITH HAIR FOR LEGS IN PLACE OF HACKLES, BY MRS. J. R. RICHARDSON, KINGSTON-ON-THAMES. Plate 1. Rolled Wings. Plate la. Double Wings. Plate 16. Single Wings, Detached Bodies. 1. Gold-bibbed Hare's Ear. Wings—Medium starling. Legs—Fur from the hare's back. Body—*Fur from the hares ear ribbed with fine gold. Tail—Bright red cock's hackle. 2. Golden Dun. Wings—Medium starling. Legs—Fur from the hare's back. Body—Flat gold. Tail—Blue Andalusian. 3. Hare's Ear and Yellow. Wings—Medium starling. Legs—Fur from the hare's Body—Horse hair dyed bright yellow. Tail—Bright red cock's hackle. 4. Blue Quill Gnat. Wings—Light starling. Legs—Seal's fur dyed dun. Body—Peacock quill stripped. Tail—Blue Andalusian cock's hackle. 5. Claret Spinner. Wings—Dark starlings. Legs—Seal's fur dyed claret. Body—Peacock's quiU dyed claret. Tail—Stiff hackle also dyed claret. 6. Dark Olive Dun. - Wing—Water-rail. Legs—Seal's fur dyed dark olive. Body—Dark olive floss silk ribbed with gold. Tail—Bright olive hackle. f. Red Quill Gnat. ^™—Medium starling. Leas—Seal's fur dyed same shade as bright red hackle. Body—Peacock's quill. Tail—Bright red cock's hackle. 3. Olive Quill. Wings—Medium starling. Legs—Seal's fur dyed medium olive. jgaj5y_Peacock,s quill dyed yellowish olive. Tail—Stiff hackle, also dyed olive. 9. Red Spinneb. Wings—Medium starling. i^s-^Seal's fur lived same shade as medium red hackle. Body—Horse-hair dyed scarlet. Zfct£-Cream cock's hackle. 10. March-brown (Male). Wings—Woodcock's. jjqs—Fur from hare's back. Body—Mole's fur ribbed with fine gold. 2*at&—Partridge. 11. Medium Olive Dun. - Wings—Medium starling. Legs—Seal's fur dyed olive. Body—Seal's fur dyed okve ribbed with fine gold. TaiJ—Medium olive. 12. March-brown (Female). Wings—HCvoAj marked pheasant's. Legs—Fur from hare's back. Body—Thar from the hare's ear mixed with greenish yellow wool. rati—-Partridge. \L .ROLLED WINGS. -J- DOUBLE WINGS. if I SINGLE WINGS, DETACHED BODIES. iff \L GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 93 an art in itself, and I have in my thoughts a Dry Fly angler who is a wonderfully skilful hand at it. He nearly always fishes with a big Alder, which is a very killing fly indeed, and a far more legitimate one than the abomination known as the Alexandra, that resembles no insect in the earth or the waters beneath, or than small salmon flies which are sometimes used for these gross-feeding fish. He swears by the big Alder, as the late Mr. Thomas Andrews, did by the big Sedge. Although this method of getting through the guard of big trout gorging on shrimp and snail needs not a little skill, and care too in stalking—for any minute the fish may look up and see something of the incautious angler—it can never be regarded by the true Dry Fly fisherman in any other light than that of a makeshift. It is not "the real thing " : it is nothing like " the real thing." If in the midst of a campaign against a shrimper, the Dry Fly angler catches sight of a fish rising fairly at fly, he will be up and at the latter immediately, leaving the former to finish his base meal in security. Sometimes when there is a certain amount of fly on, some trout will be rising, whilst others will be " tailing"; and on these occasions it is 94 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY not necessarily easy at first sight to distinguish between them, because the trout's tail may only just break the surface of the stream, causing a tempting-looking little ring. Precious time may thus be wasted, just as it may over a " bulging" trout, unless the angler be on his guard, and not inclined to take it for granted that the ring is caused by a fairly rising fish. You feel rather small when, after creeping into position, and putting the driest of Duns over a splendid- looking rise, an unmistakable tail suddenly crops up, to dispel the fond delusion. Early In the season a " tailer " may often be taken with a floating Dun, as for the matter of that with almost any other fly, but this is the time of year when the hideous and lanky two-pounder ought to be quite four pounds considering his length. Even trout on most difficult chalk streams are at meal-time in this season often as silly as they are soft — ready to take anything presented anyhow by anybody. Far more refined, and yet to the Dry Fly angler scarcely less troublesome at times, than either the trout feeding on nymphce or on shrimp, is the trout feeding persistently on what Mr. Halford neatly describes as those "aggravating little wretches," the " smuts " or " curses." GJROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 95 Ronalds,1 whose most excellent work, The Fly- Fishers Entomology, though written half-a- century ago, remains a standard work on angling, makes no reference to the several kinds of "smuts," though on Derbyshire streams, which 1 Alfred Ronalds' head-quarters were on the Blithe, or Blythe, " a sweet trout stream in Staffordshire,,} and close to Cresswell Station, where the painstaking angler-entomologist erected a small observatory for spying into the habits of trout. Here is one of the quaint, but by no means aimless, experiments which he tells us he made therefrom, for the purpose of giving some information as to the sense of taste in fish:—" I once threw upon the water, from my hut (by blowing them through a tin tube), successively, ten dead house-flies, towards a trout known to me by a white mark upon his nose (occasioned by the wound of a hook), all of which he took. Thirty more with cayenne pepper and mustard plastered on the least conspicuous parts of them, were then administered in the same manner. These he also seized, twenty of them at the instant they touched the water, and not allowing time for the dressing to be dispersed; but the other ten remained a second or two on the surface before he swallowed them, and a small portion of the dressing parted and sank. The next morning several exactly similar doses were taken by the same fish, who probably remembered the previous day's repast, and seemed to enjoy them heartily. From these and similar experiments, such as getting Trout to take flies dipped in honey, oil, vinegar, etc., I concluded that if the animal has taste, his palate is not peculiarly sensitive. My experience goes to prove, contrary to the opinion of some who say that the Trout will take every insect, that he does not feed upon the Honey Bee (Apis meUifica), or Wasp (Vespa vulgaris), and that he very rarely takes the Humble Bee (Bombus)." fi THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY he knew well, they certainly flourish in the heats of summer. None of the older angling writers appear to have taken any stock of this department of aquatic entomology, and one or two well-known volumes which treat more than incidently of fishing with the Dry Fly are equally reticent on the subject. Possibly some, whilst aware of the annoying habit big trout have of feeding persistently on these tiny creatures, have recognized the undoubted fact that so far the " smuts " have proved impossible to procure passable imitations of. But the subject is not one which can be ignored by Dry Fly anglers, and the observations of Mr. Halford in regard to it are of no small interest and value. He gives a charming study of a big trout " smutting," which I cannot do better than reproduce. "On a still, hot, muggy day in July, some two or three years ago," he writes, "starting from the lower end of a favourite club water, I wandered in a somewhat disconsolate frame of mind gradually up the stream. Every now and again a fish would rise faintly and lazily to the surface, but the lightest and most accurate cast produced no response; and whether with smallest of flies or the smallest of hooks or large ones ; whether with sad and sober mm GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS 97 coloured Duns or gaudy fancy patterns ; whether with winged flies or hackle ones, or Bumbles; whether floating, half-submerged, or even sunk; whether fished up stream, across, or down, the invariable result was nought. At length, reaching an eel-weir at the upper part of the water, and thoroughly exhausted by the long walk in waders and the high temperature combined, a smooth, sloping, grassy bank tempted me to take a well-earned rest. Reclining well out of sight, and looking over the still, calm surface of the stream above the weir, a gentle movement of a 3-lb. trout in the middle of the water attracted my attention. It seemed to glide slowly upwards, and scarcely making a ripple, just showed the point of its' no3e above the water as it quietly sucked in some tiny insect. It then gradually dropped down till it was perhaps a foot below the surface, and slowly swimming to the right, again almost imperceptibly rose and took another fly; then to the left, taking a third ; then again it leisurely sank to a short distance." The above is an exact description of what many observant Dry Fly anglers have repeatedly seen take place on hot summer days, when sizable trout seem too lethargic to cope with j tr 11 ■Hilt' \ 98 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY a fly of the size of a small Olive Dun.1 I have repeatedly seen big trout stealing about in a mysterious way from one side of a small bay or pool to another, every now and then poking the tips of their noses out of the water, and have come to the conclusion that they were indulging in the practice of " cursing." Sometimes, in a good light, a little pool or bay may be seen quite peppered with various minute insects, amongst which float a few Duns—perfect giants compared with these blackish specs about the size of a pin's-head. When the trout are moving about in the manner described, and showing a bit of black snout every jiow and then, the Duns are usually ignored, and the difficulty of coaxing a decent trout is great. It is best perhaps to try some small fancy fly, if an imitation of the Dun, May-fly, or Alder prove unavailing. Mr. Halford says that on some rivers "smutting" fish will take the fancy fly known as the Pink Wickham, dressed quite small on an oo hook, but I cannot profess to have the least experience on this point. The Wickham 1 There are also several species of the "smuts" which appear on cold, blustering days in spring. In Easter week, 1896, " smuts " appeared in great quantities on the Derbyshire Wye, with a north-east wind blowing. IL GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS is a capital fly of the fancy order for Dry Fly fishing, as is also the Governor. So much nonsense has been talked and written by anglers concerning various fancy patterns which are alleged to be particularly killing on certain waters, and more on certain lengths of rivers, that I shall as much as possible refrain from recommending any particular artificial which is not an imitation of a natural insect. What are known amongst Dry Fly fishermen as the "smuts" and "curses" should not be confounded with the little insect of the order Diptera, which is often to be seen on hot summer afternoons and evenings, dancing over the water in vast numbers, almost blurring the air, an insect the trout sometimes snap at with great avidity. The " smuts " are much smaller atoms of life, and they are to be seen on, and not over, the water. There are certainly two or three different sorts, and possibly a much greater number. In addition to the various books which deal with matters entomological, I have searched several works on aquatic and other insects, but failed to find any classification of these insects. Indeed, it may be doubted whether they ever have been classified at all, and whether there is any obtainable information 100 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY as to their life-history. Should this be so, what an admirable opening is here for an entomologist to step in and cap the labours of a Pictet, a Reaumer, or a Swammerdam! To make his very initial operations, he had best put himself in the hands of a Dry Fly artist, in the height of the "smut" season. As Professor Miall observes, " the names employed by anglers should be noted, as much information respecting the habits of aquatic insects can be extracted from anglers by those who speak their language." It would be surely no small triumph to go down to entomological fame as the introducer of one or two new species of "curses," though it may be doubted whether the Dry Fly angler would regard such a naturalist with very kindly feelings. There is a species of the "smut" which I have sometimes thought is scarcely perceptible to the naked eye. At any rate, on a certain still length of the Darenth, I have again and again noted good trout rising in the quietest possible manner, and taking some minute atom which I have myself never been able to identify or even discover. Directly a nice dry Dun is put over these ridiculous fish they fade away, and for a while cease rising; but leave the bank GROSS AND AGGRAVATING FEEDERS and return again in half-an-hour, and there you will see them going through exactly the same performance. The true "smuts" or "cursesI cannot be properly imitated, partly because no hook is made small enough for the purpose;1 and if it were it would not hold. There is a tiny fly which anglers often resort to known as the Black Gnat, the wing of which is made out of a bit of pike's scale laid flat on the hook. I believe a patent was taken out for this extraordinary little pike-winged object. A few anglers have used it with effect against " smutting " fish; most anglers prefer something more tangible. It may be added that, by a merciful dispensation of Providence on behalf of anglers who attempt to meet " smutting" fish on their own ground, the wings of these mites lie flat. The idea of fishing with a well-cocked " curse" would be altogether too fantastic. 1 The smallest hook made is the o o o, which is, of course, sizes too big for a proper imitation of any " smut" to be dressed on. CHAPTER V THE TROUT AT HOME If I were put to it to state what in my view is the most interesting feature of all about the Dry Fly, a feature peculiar to this method of angling, I think I should on the whole reply, Seeing so much more of the performance than pne does when fishing in any other style." To kill fish, it is true, you need only " spot " a rise. A tiny ring which has been exactly located serves the purpose of the angler. As a rule he can judge from the appearance of the ring or dimple, combined with the nature of the place, and where it occurs, whether it was made by a sizable fish, or by something over which it is idle to cast; though in this, as in most other matters connected with the trout, there are exceptions. Early in the season the trout, lanky and out of condition, seem here, there, and everywhere. Presently, as the season advances, they take up fixed positions in certain favourable 102 THE TROUT AT HOME 103 spots, under the banks as much as possible, and in eddies and backwaters, where they can enjoy their insectivorous meals in comfort and with a sense — though often a misguided one — of security. When the cast is a long one upstream on one's own bank, or across into the opposite bank, or again where the water is deep and comparatively dark-looking, or where it is rapid and broken, the Dry Fly fisherman may not see much more of the movements of his quarry than he who "fishes the stream." He sees the ring, but perhaps nothing more, till the trout is hooked and played. There are strange, puzzling places in most trout streams of any size where a tiny ring is now and again noted, which the angler feels convinced must have been made by a very heavy fish indeed, though nothing, not even a shadowy form, is ever seen. Most anglers can recall some place of the kind, and the wonder is that no fish ever takes an artificial fly there. Frequently the theory is put forward in regard to these deep, dark flowing places, that the finny inhabitants thereof are trout of great bulk and wisdom, which rarely trouble to take a small fly; some prefer to believe that there is nothing in these places but a few yearlings; whilst others 2^ta^2 104 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY are disposed to think that from some unexplained cause fish in them are able to see exactly what the angler is doing, and are therefore not in the least inclined to look at an artificial fly. Again, there are places where the angler can never get to sufficiently close quarters to see anything beyond the rise, because if he came near enough to see the fish he would be sure to scare it. In such cases, and in late evening fishing, the Dry Fly fisherman sees beyond the ring no more of his quarry and its movements than if he were angling down-stream with a cast of Sunk Flies. But there are exceptions in small or moderate-sized streams like the Kent Darenth or the Hertfordshire Lea. When the water in these streams is at its normal summer level and brightness, the Dry Fly fisherman usually sees the movements of the trout "as through a glass," even when the cast is a fairly long one; often when the fish is in slow, shallow water a few yards distant only from where the angler crouches, the whole performance, even to the opening and shutting of the victim's—or intended victim's—mouth, is seen, not darkly, but with perfect clearness. When the fish is a good one, the excitement in such **£ THE TROUT AT HOME 105 cases is greatly increased by a view of his proceedings. The anxiety, too, is naturally great, and a young and inexperienced hand is very liable to commit the error of striking too quickly and too violently at the rise, and of thus whisking the fly from the water before the trout has had a chance of getting it properly into his mouth. This mistake of striking too soon, when the movements of the trout are very apparent to the angler, is a rather common one, and by no means confined to the tyro. For my part I find that in Dry Fry fishing, as in shooting and in billiards, one may be on one day in first- rate "form," and on another completely out of it. Some days everything seems to go wrong, no matter how much practice one has lately been having. The gut ties itself in detestable knots in the midst of the one fair rise during the day, though the wind is not particularly bad; the line never seems to go out properly; the fly simply won't "cock" up in sprightly fashion on the water; and the only good fish hooked all day gets off to a certainty. I have heard a good angler say that sometimes he is so nervous^ and fidgety that he can do nothing to his own satisfaction, and that on such occasions all goes wrong. This bad mistake of striking tTJ8T!». ■»">«*-»a» ■* "«**»JM 106 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY too soon, and of striking infinitely too rudely, may perhaps be now and then a sign that the angler is quite out of form. It is not of necessity always fatal—though usually so—unless the fish has been scratched or has seen the movement of the rod. Sometimes, curious to relate, the scratching of a fish does not imply the scaring of him. On a small stream in the North of England, in exceedingly low and almost dead water, and in the bright sunshine, I found a good trout apparently taking some small flies. Lying flat down, and creeping within casting distance, I sent an Olive Dun to him. It was a poor shot, the fly landing a couple of jfeet on one side of the trout, yet, the water being so low and bright, he saw it, came at once, and appeared to have taken it. I struck, and, owing perhaps to the extreme awkwardness of my position— lying as I was stretched out almost flat on the ground—very roughly. The hook came away from the trout with a noise exactly like that of a strip of a rag being torn up, and his head was actually pulled out of the water for a fraction of a moment. Curious to relate, he did not bolt off in desperate affright, but instead remained perfectly still for a few seconds; then darted at a smaller trout lying a few feet off, whom he _J THE TROUT AT HOME 107 butted with much asperity. After this display of spite, the trout returned to the position where I had first cast to him, stayed there motionless for a little while, and finally faded quietly away under the shady bank where the water was deeper. On another occasion, when " dib- bing " with an artificial May-fly in even shallower and stiller water, I rose a much heavier trout. He appeared to have got the fly well into his mouth, but when I struck—with certainly the maximum of force advisable—it came away with a queer little sound, rather like a very faint " pop" of the cork of a ginger-beer bottle. To my surprise the trout did not dash out into the open stream, leaving a small wave behind him, but coolly remained where he was. I withdrew and dried the fly, hoping that he might presently desire to have another taste of the hook. The line was again presented, but alas! he allowed it to float over his nose without giving the faintest indication that he was aware of its proximity. It was presented a third time, and then the trout slowly sheered off to deeper water, and sank to near the bottom of the stream. He was still well within sight, and it really seemed scarcely far-fetched to conclude that he was ruminating over the strange thing - 2-11. ___ ' "■ ~ r ill 108 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY that had just happened. This trout had not been scared—possibly because the hook had not pricked any soft and sensitive part of his mouth ■—but simply offended. In the same way the bare sight of an artificial fly will sometimes offend, nay scandalize, rising trout, though they have been neither pricked nor missed. From some unexplained cause, the rings made by a rising trout will on such occasions cease directly an artificial fly has been offered, no matter how clean and dexterous the cast. Great is the chagrin of the angler as he puts his fly over one rising fish after another, and finds that the unmistakable effect of this is to set them one and all down. What is the reason of it ? he asks himself, as he changes fly after fly and assails fish after fish; but asks in vain. On at least one occasion I have had a bitter experience of this kind, when throwing to trout after trout in the semi-darkness. The lower part of the Derbyshire Wye—that is, from about a mile above Bakewell to Rowsley Bridge, where the stream unites with the peaty brown waters of the Derwent—is'famous amongst those who have studied it for its many splendid backwaters. The river curls and winds in and out amongst the meadows, THE TROUT AT HOME 109 as the " stripling Thames " does above Eynsham Bridge—where, by the way, there are, or used to be, some grand trout1—and as a consequence there are little nooks at almost all the sharp bends, into which the main current fails to enter in its impetuous course seaward. In these nooks what current there is flows backwards in an opposite direction to the main stream, sometimes forming tiny whirlpools and eddies. But though the main stream does not enter these places, it washes abundance of surface food into them, and every trout which 1 The Thames or Isis for many miles above sleepy Eynsham is a little known stream, and yet passing beautiful. In college days I would now and again cut lectures, chapel, and " hall," and in a sculling boat while away an afternoon in May or early June on this part of the river, having tea at Bablock Hythe and returning to the city of the "dreaming spires" long after the last faint streak of purple had faded from the west. One afternoon and evening, amongst not a few spent in a boat on the " upper river," I remember in particular. The Thames May-fly —such a poor-looking, dusky little insect, compared to the fly of the Kennet!—was out in myriads, and between Eynsham and Bablock I noted the rise of more than one heavy trout. It is near Bablock that the pleasantly-named Windrush, a stream that yields many a lusty trout and is well adapted to the Dry Fly, steals gently into the Thames. Higher up flows in, too, the Gloucestershire Colne, which at Fairford is one of the most typical Dry Fly streams in England. 110 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY has reached years of discretion knows that it is here a meal may be most comfortably picked up, especially if the wind should be blowing across from off the opposite bank. In the open stream the trout to get his flies has to be very active and alert, as they are carried down rapidly. In many of these backwaters, on the other hand, the flies sail up and down with the slow current, or get caught in the eddies, when they can be picked up without any serious exertion. The trout, despite his extraordinary activity when hooked, or engaged in fight or frolic with another fish, is fond of getting his food as leisurely as possible. He likes, when it can be managed, to lie very near the surface, with his fins almost out of the water, and draw down the flies that come over his nose, or within a few inches of it, in a quite caressful manner. After obtaining a. sufficiency of Duns, he not uncommonly goes down a foot or so in a calmly digestive mood, returning in a few minutes to open a new campaign against the helpless little creatures, which, unlike the common house-fly and so many other insects, are apparently without the least sense of danger, or the least instinct of self-preservation. Where the rise of flies is a small one, only two or three being. THE TROUT AT HOME 111 in one of the smaller backwaters or bays at the same time, the trout glides gently about and clears off every insect he can see, instead of taking up a stationary position, and allowing the Duns to sail up to his nose, when they can be sucked in. As a rule, a trout of, say, a pound in weight, which has taken up his quarters for the summer season in one of these smaller bays, spends most of his time there, only going out into the stream when his appetite, too gross to be satisfied with fragile Duns and "curses," prompts him to try a course of fresh-water shrimps, snails, etc. He will rarely tolerate another fish in the same place, and chases away any intruder—always excepting larger fellows than himself—with great valour. Scared by an angler or a passerby, he rushes out into the stream, but invariably returns when all is quiet again, and I have frequently known a trout hooked, played, and lost more than once in a little bay, come back and ultimately meet with his death in the place. Moreover, a trout will sometimes be a tenant of a backwater not only for a few months, but for a matter of years. In several cases, that come back vividly as I write, I can recollect hooking and losing a big fellow one season, and II 112 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY returning and killing undoubtedly the same fish next year, after a furious set-to. The larger and deeper backwaters, formed by a sharp bend, such as has been mentioned, or by a big tree stretching far over the water with its trunk and lower branches, or by the fact that the main current is on the other side of the stream and compressed within narrow limits, have room for several good trout. The most famous of all on the Bakewell length was long ago named the " Pool between the Willows." It is perhaps ten yards in length by three or four at its broadest point in width, and in parts is deep. Many scores of well-conditioned trout, varying between three-quarters of a pound to a pound and a-half, have been taken from this grand backwater with its steady current, which flows right round almost in a circle, and many scores of trout too have there been stalked, risen, hooked, and lost. At the lower end of the backwater there is an aged willow which lays its great rough trunk for a little distance almost horizontally across the stream, and on this the Dry Fly fisherman loves to sit and watch for rises. The one drawback is the nearness of the road. It is not pleasant whilst earnestly scanning the backwater for signs of a moving THE TROUT AT HOME 113 fish, to be observed and shouted at by black- coated tourists bound for Haddon Hall, a mile or so further down stream. The Dry Fly fisherman wants above all things to be alone with the fish he is presently going to land. It is painful fishing to an audience, whether an appreciative one or the reverse. Immediately above this backwater is a formidable place one of us christened "the Snaggy Pool," because for a long while it was half filled up with a great dead bough, amongst the branches of which the best trout fed in happy seclusion from the outer world. This baekwater is a much smaller one, and, save at its edges, deep. A fish hooked there never wasted a moment in the backwater, but rushed into the strong stream, and strove to go under the great trunk of the willow tree already mentioned. One still, soft evening in July 1891, I came thither flushed with success at having just landed a 2^-lb. trout a hundred yards higher up stream. It was one of those too rare evenings when big fish are lying on the surface in backwater and open stream, unsuspicious as yearlings, approachable as during a short, sharp May-fly glut. Duns, Midges, Spinners, and flies of various other kinds were out in 1 r 114 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY fair numbers. At the Snaggy Pool there must have been half-a-dozen sizable trout all well on the feed. In the middle of the pool, and close to the surface, was what seemed to my enraptured gaze the king of Wye fish — a great, light-green trout, certainly no smaller than the one just landed, and infinitely handsomer. Down on my bended knees was I in an instant, and an Olive Dun presented to His Majesty without the slightest delay. A suck, a quick strike, and away went the outraged monarch, taking the fine off the winch with a screech. The tree-trunk was reached, and, ah, the gut smashed bike a silkeiL_ihread, before the amazed angler had time to grasp the situation! There is no place a fish goes to faster, or with greater decision, than a strong stream under a tree-trunk, or under great gnarled roots, and there is no place more positively fatal to the angler's hopes. This backwater fishing, whether on the Wye or other streams, requires the utmost delicacy and nicety. In the great majority of cases a backwater must be fished from its own bank. Kfc- Fished from the other side of the stream there is always " a drag." The fly will only travel down naturally at the very edge of the back* II THE TROUT AT HOME water, indeed in the stream, and the trout will not take there. Why should he ? He frequents the backwater because he can take his meals in leisurely style there, and the flies just outside, however near they may be, are travelling rapidly and can only be secured at the cost of some exertion. Some of the very small backwaters where the banks are high are all but impossible. They cannot be fished from the opposite side of the stream because of the "drag," and they cannot be fished from their own side because owing to the high banks the angler is unable to see into them at all, until so close that he must scare any rising trout. I know of such backwaters about a yard square on various streams, and they are the despair of the angler; yet one is irresistibly drawn to peer into them with great care at least once a day, to see whether there is a fish " up." To lie flat down in the grass, cast into one of these places, and wait to hear the rise, or observe the line to see it checked if a fish has taken the fly, is as a last resource sometimes tried, but very, very rarely with the least success. You must see what you are doing, and keep an eye on your fly, to succeed in Dry Fly fishing. tF 11(5 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY Backwaters of anything like respectable dimensions are fished from their own side of the stream, the angler creeping down very- gingerly and secreting himself at their lower end. From the awkward positions he has to take up in order, to hide himself, casting is usually a difficult process. The fly evinces a strong inclination to adhere to the grasses behind the crouching angler, or, if there should happen to be any, to the bushes and trees around and above him; if there are no such impediments the casting is easier, but the likelihood of scaring the trout far greater. A bunch of willow herb, a single big dock, or a thistle, is better covera than none at all, and it is astonishing, as already remarked, how the smallest particle of vegetation assists the stalker. The clear-cut outline of the angler against the sky-line is what no wild trout can stand, save in places where the fish are thoroughly accustomed to seeing people passing and repassing their lairs from morning to night. The dam immediately below Bakewell Bridge—beyond which Francis Francis, I have heard, used to say an angler need never go for sport—is one of these latter places. There is a much-frequented path on the right bank of the stream, and the trout, which are usually numer- THE TROUT AT HOME 117 ous in the darn, being thoroughly accustomed to the sight of folk promenading up and down, scarcely take the trouble to stir, even when lying within a yard or so of the walk. As a rule, a trout which sees you it is almost impossible to deceive, but it is pretty certain that the Bakewell dam fish must see at times a good deal of the performance; and yet on occasions they take both artificial Duns and May-flies admirably in low, bright water. What with the plum trees in the gardens just at the back of the angler, and the promenaders, it is discouraging work fishing this place from the path side. Passers-by and spectators are usually fairly considerate towards the distressed angler.1 1 North-country trippers are at times very trying t° the temper of the Dry Fly fisherman. Once when I was in the thick of the rise, a stone's throw from Haddon, a party of rowdy day-trippers, disgorged from a huge wagonette, came down in a cloud to the riverside, like a scourge of immense black flies, settling all around, so that to cast would have been to hook one of them, and strike several others, to a certainty. Very different was my lot on another occasion, when I had the privilege of fishing that charming little Dry Fly trout stream, the Bradford, on a July evening. Close to the beautifully situated village of Middleton a road follows the course of the stream. A number of villagers were enjoying their summer evening stroll along the road, and the prospect of getting a fish at this point seemed a 118 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY To fish " far and fine " has been a goiden rule of fly fishing for trout from almost the commencement of the art. It is an excellent precept for the Wet Fly fisherman where the water is clear and low, and often equally good for Dry Fly work. But " near and fine " is nearer the mark in fishing the backwaters of the Wye and other streams. In backwater fishing a "drag" is always fatal, owing to the gentle, almost unbroken flow of the water, and to avoid the " drag " you must get to very close quarters. A short rod of 9 feet 6 inches to 10 feet is needed. There are few more ridiculous angling spectacles than that of a man with a 12-footer or a small double-bended rod trying to fish a small backwater. He might as well essay the task with a tarpon rod and a tarpon bait. A rod of 11 feet odd always appears to me as an abomination when used for a small stream, as something like going out partridge shooting with a duck-gun. Still, some use such a rod, and say they find it of avail for the few extra long casts poor one. But to my surprise everybody made a point of keeping away from the water-side, and not a single rising trout was set down. It was an agreeable incident, and seemed to us a sure sign of the respect and liking of the villagers for the noble owner of the stream. THE TROUT AT HOME that are needed to get to a fish right under the bank at the broadest part of the stream. In the backwaters it is a hopeless and helpless instrument, for to present the fly to the fish you would often have to get right back from the water's edge into the field; and by taking that course you would be fortunate enough if you hooked a trout a season. A very heavy line, too, is a most clumsy thing to work in a backwater. Personally I nearly always use a rod of under 10 feet, and have found nothing so convenient for this particular style of fishing as a decidedly stiff one. A rod composed of hollow steel tubes, which telescope, is not a nice instrument to carry on one's shoulder during a sharp storm of thunder and lightning, any more than a gun is. I often use one, however, and find it good for fishing backwaters, as well as some of the overgrown and wooded parts of the stream. The line enters an aperture in the handle a few inches above the winch, and comes out at the top. It is sometimes rather a troublesome business passing the line through, when the tubes have got at all rusty, and, in casting, the line after it has got wet does not come off the reel and out at the top very easily; it has a way of sticking to the hollow interior 120 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY of the tubes and needs force to eject. These are the chief drawbacks of the all-steel rod, which, introduced a few years ago from the United States, seemed at one time likely to become popular amongst English anglers. On the other hand, this ingenious American invention has distinct points in its favour. The action is beautifully even, and there is no warping after a severe strain, or spell of work, as is the case with so many wooden rods. The condition of the top joint of many an expensive wooden rod after a day s sport is often deplorable, whereas nothing can take the straightness out of a good all-steel rod. Of course a breakage in the case of a steel rod, with no reserve top joint, or rather tube, would be fatal, for no splicing is possible; but then it is not easy to snap a steel rod, the tubes being exceedingly strong. In fishing backwaters and wooded places, where one has to crouch, kneel, or even lie down almost flat in the dense vegetation, not only the fly and the cast, but also the line between the rings of the rod are constantly catch- ins: in something or other, no matter how care- fully the angler proceeds. A steel rod is without rings, as the line passes through its interior, and this is no slight blessing. Finally, the line M» [To face Plate of Natural 1 1. May-fly (light). 2. Great Red Spinner {Imago of March Brown). 4. Jenny Spinner {Imago of Iron. Bine Dun). 5. Little May Dun. 6. Bed Spinner {Imago of Blue Dun). 7. Black Gnat. 8. Blue Dun. 9. Alder. 10. Iron Blue Dun. 11. Yellow Dun. 12. May-ply (dark)r~ 13. March-brown, If ks33^ mm. grr i< I THE TROUT AT HOME 121 never clings to the outside of the steel rod as it does to that of the wooden one—another decided advantage. I am well aware that such remarks as these will seem unscientific in the last degree to the man to whom these nice questions of choice of implements are of prime importance. They are of importance no doubt, but I do not believe in laying down any hard and fast rules in regard to them. A rod is rather like a billiard cue. Each man when content with his own thinks it the best he has ever handled, and when thoroughly accustomed to it finds most other ones difficult to use. The late Mr. John Bright, a keen salmon fisherman, is recorded to have once said that in his experience anglers never agreed on any piscatorial subject: had he limited his remark to the question of rods, he might not have been so far from the truth. The wariness of trout in backwaters being so great, it is well to show them not one inch more gut, however fine it be, than can be helped, and equally important is it that the first cast should be a good one. This is easy to say; often impossible to do. When fishing with a short line from an awkward, cramped position in an overgrown place, and Ii 122 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY with perhaps a nasty hostile wind blowing, it is very difficult to place the fly to a few inches or even to a foot at the first shot. But there is one thing which one can always do, and that is refrain from removing the fly, even if wide of the mark, until one judges it to be well out of the fish's vision. The fly must be perfectly dry, and when it belongs to the Ephemeridce1 it should be "cocked." The old rule in fly fishing used to be to let a trout severely alone, if, after the line had been fairly presented to him three times, he failed to accept it. On those private waters where trout swarm, and but little fishing is done, the rule might be a good enough one even for the Dry Fly angler of to-day; but on club waters the case is very different. A good fisherman will not hesitate to stay in the same place an hour at a stretch, if he sees a good chance of deceiving a heavy trout which is on the feed. Some will tell you that if once a fish follows the 1 All the Ephemeridce, such as May-Hies, Duns, and March-browns, sail down-stream with folded upright wings; whereas the Alder and the various kinds of non-aquatic flies, which are blown on to the water, or fall off the over-hanging trees, mostly have flat wings. The artificial imitations of the latter are, therefore, not made to sit up on the surface of the water. THE TROUT AT HOME 123 fly down for a foot or two, and then rejects it, he had best be left alone, as he does not mean business. My advice is stick to that fish, whilst he is feeding on the natural fly, until you have either hooked or scared ,him. It is rather humiliating when a good fish feeding ravenously on natural flies comes now and then to look at your imitation, and declines it. But whilst the fish continues to feed, however persistently he snubs you, depend upon it there is always a fair chance of getting him into the net in the end. The oddest of little ways these wiseacres of the backwaters have! It is not uncommon to see a trout follow the artificial fly a couple of feet, almost touching it with his nose the while, and evidently regarding it with mingled feelings of curiosity, longing, and suspicion. Perhaps after having followed and refused once, the trout will just glance at the fly as it passes him the second time, or make a queer little movement—nothing more. Then, though it passes time after time over his nose, he takes not the faintest notice of it, though sucking down every natural within reach. Finally, he suddenly takes it into his head to have the suspicious-looking thing at all costs, and to the angler's delight comes and r W 124 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY seizes it without the least hesitation, The whole of this interesting performance can often be distinctly seen by the Dry Fly fisherman ; and yet there are folk who imagine that fishing is dull, and wTho never can make out what in the world there can be in it to keep grown men by the riverside from morning to night! Why, if they could but dimly perceive the fascination of the Dry Fly, they might be wondering at the contented disposition of the angler, considering that, the fishing day, except in the height of summer, is such a short one. A friend who fishes a great salmon river in the regions of the Midnight Sun every season tells us about his twenty-four hours of daylighTevery day. What a grand place that would be, I have sometimes thought, for Dry Fly fishing. The only drawback might be that in the Mayfly season the dinner would probably be kept waiting, not till bed-time, v but till the large hours of the following morning! For the zealous angler the day is all too short, and Paradise indeed to him would be that country where, in the words of Cowper, " the leaves never fall and the eternal day is always summertime." This kind of fishing is by no means confined THE TROUT AT HOME 125 to the Wye, though I do not happen to know of any other Dry Fly stream where backwaters are quite so numerous, and so inviting f;o the trout, as on the Kutland length of this stream. The mile or so of the Dove, from the little wooden bridge at the commencement of the fields by the Izaak Walton to the junction with the Manifold, is a similar kind of water, and here again the trout seek their meals in the backwaters, but they do not seem to dwell there throughout the whole summer so persistently as do the Wye fish in theirs,— There are bays and backwaters on Test, Itchen, and Kennet, but these chalk streams are comparatively slow flowing, and the trout are quite at home and find plenty of favourable feeding-places in the open stream and under the shady banks. I do not recollect killing a backwater trout in any one of the delightful Hertfordshire streams, or in that fishful little brook the Kent Darenth. Nor on the upper reaches of the Wye are backwaters exactly affected by the trout. The Eutland is essentially the backwater length. M CHAPTER VI DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY "The world forgetting, by the world forgot." To no man can this line be more applicable than to the ardent Dry Fly fisherman, as, shoulder-deep in the greenery of the riverside, ihe waits and watches for the ring of a rising trout. Like sleep, angling is the " balm of hurt minds," bringing oblivion of the jar and fret of life. The serene atmosphere of the riverside, and what has been so well described as the intense concentration of Nature upon herself, are almost sufficient, apart from the excitement of sport, to make the angler forget his own little world of worry; and it is about the byways of the brook, the quiet backwaters, that this concentration of Nature is so discernible. The most secluded spots of all, however, where the heart of Nature seems to beat the strongest,, are the plantations, the patches of woodland, and of dense vegetation, found here and there 126 \ DIBBING'WITH THE DRY FLY 127 by the margin of most Dry Fly streams. In the pools, backwaters, eddies, and swirls of these wooded portions of streams, many of the biggest and boldest-feeding trout in the river abide throughout the season. These are the places which the half-hearted angler, too careful of his tackle, and too fearful of getting over his boots in some unsuspected pool of water or ditch, religiously shuns. Not so the thoroughgoing Dry Fly angler, who if necessary will go up to the knees in water to extract a fish that has badly weeded him, and who thinks nothing of getting hung up or broken in pursuit of his quarry in difficult spots. Backwater fishing, which was dealt with in the last chapter, is not very inviting in the early part of the season. The fish found in the backwaters in April and the early part of May are not as a rule in good condition, the well-fed trout at this time of year preferring the open stream, where they can secure a much larger supply of general food, such as various kinds of shell-fish (mollusca)x and Crustacea, 1 Trout are very partial in some waters to the freshwater bivalves. Mr. Armitstead, whose Anglers1 Paradise is a book which it can truly be said every pisciculturist ought to possess, says that bivalves are excellent food for fish, but that there is one slight danger with regard to r 128 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY chief amongst which is the fresh-water shrimp (gammarus pidex), excessively plentiful in Hertfordshire and Hampshire rivers, where the trout run very large. Nor is there the temptation to dally long by these backwaters when the year is yet young, as there is later in the bloom and glow of summer. Backwater fishing means a great deal of waiting, and necessitates much crouching in the grass, .which will scarcely be to the liking of most anglers at inclement and comparatively leafless seasons. The same may be said of the very wTooded spots with which we now propose to deal. When June comes in with a rush, and later in the garish days of advanced summer, trout in many well-fished Dry Fly waters are often for a long spell averse to looking at even the natural fly on the water till the light has begun to them—they feed with their tongues out. Small fish occasionally seize hold of these, and get their noses drawn into the grip of the shells. They have occasionally been seen swimming about with one of the Cycladidce firmly adhering to them, having been gripped by the nose as a reward for curiosity. Occasionally even unwary birds and animals fall victims, and so large a bird as a water-hen has been found dead owing to its having attacked a swan mussel (Anadonta cygnea). The beak of the bird was firmly held as in a vice, and, the huge bivalve being too heavy to carry about, the bird was simply drowned. I DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 129 thicken. For hours the angler searches open stream and backwater alike in vain for a feeding trout, and in broiling August afternoons," when the sun beats sheer down from a speckless sky, he may not uncommonly be observed to sink down on some sheltered bit. of ground under a spreading oak or ancient willow, and devote himself to the pleasures of the pipe. Pleasant indeed is 'it to so lie, well out-stretched amongst the grasses and scented water plants. But though it is a rare way of getting through the fierce sun-steeped hours of the early afternoon, wThen nothing stirs in the open stream, even under the banks with their narrow strip of shade —always excepting the grayling, who is the sun-worshipper of the trout brook, or a despised dace, or chub—the angler would be for enticing a trout even then if he knew how. Sometimes this can be done. Trout that lie under the branches of trees which sweep the surface of the water, and right in the cavities of densely vegetated banks, are in many cases quietly rising, with a few short breaks, the livelong day. As their haunts are in almost perpetual shade, they are not affected by the conditions which put other fish "off the feed" in the heat and burden of the day. It is to be observed, too, 130 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY that trout in wooded spots and amid tie tangle of the riverside feed more on flies of various sorts than do fish in open places. If a fly can be got to a trout in a tangle without scaring him, it will be taken. Eegular casting is usually out of the question in wooded places, where very likely the angler is up to the shoulders in gigantic docks, and hemmed in on all sides save that of the water with trees and bushes. It is even impossible to make the short casts from awkward positions which are often resorted to in backwater fishing in more open places. The angler must dib or dape with a Dry Fly. Moving with all stealthiness along the riverside, he narrowly scans every likely-looking spot within reach of his rod—for dibbing, as we shall see directly, must all be done at the closest quarters to the fish—till he sees a trout near the surface, feeding, or obviously on the look-out for flies. The trout discovered, it is necessary to arrange one's plans for getting unobserved within a few yards of him. As already mentioned, it is infinitely easier to approach a trout where there is a little friendly shelter than in the open. Always taking the greatest possible care to move very slowly indeed, it is frequently ii 1 DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 131 possible to get within a couple of yards of a feeding trout, unless owing to high banks one is too much above him. The stalk successfully accomplished, the next business is to get the rod into position for lowering the fly on to the water in front of his nose. Of course, before this is done, indeed before the stalk is commenced, the angler must have reduced his gut-cast by a matter of yards. With a rod of say ten feet, he can in dibbing only manage a line of half that length, and often I have found myself compelled to limit the length of line and gut from the top of the rod to the fiy to as little as three feet. To manipulate a longer line it would be necessary to hold the rod high, which even if—from absence of bushes and tree-branches above—possible, would be most awkward, certainly tending to increase the risk of scaring the fish. Thus a very short line in dibbing with the Dry Fly is naturally resorted to, and a foot of gut—instead of as in ordinary casting a couple of yards—is usually the most that can be conveniently managed. The rod has to be gently slid above, or beneath, or amongst—as the case may be—the herbage and bushes, till the top is over the trout. Then the rod is ii 132 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY slowly lowered till the fly alights on the water. What a moment that is when the fly, safely launched, floats to the trout! If the movements of the trout are often seen as through a glass darkly in open streams at considerable distances—often seen with greater distinctness in the backwaters — they are in dibbing not less clear to the eye than the printed words on this page. You can see even the little red specks on your fish, and can estimate his. weight as well as if he were lying in the grass at your feet; for consider, he is only a few feet off, at the surface of the stream, and in the clearest water. Sometimes the trout will wait for the fly in the orthodox manner, and suck it in quietly as it passes over his nose. At other times he will come to meet it, impatient of the least delay, and in not a few cases I have known a good trout simply rush to his destruction, causing quite a commotion in the shallow water. As the fly is gradually lowered, it is without the faintest doubt occasionally perceived by the fish before it has actually touched the water, and it is my firm belief that in more than one instance I have seen a trout agitated by the sight of the fly DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 133 in the air. A certain undefinable tremulousness of the fish has been noted under such circumstances.1 A dibbed-for trout, if he is fairly on the rise, is easy to hook, only provided the angler refrains from striking too soon. An old writer advises the fly fisherman never* to strike until the trout has "turned his head." This at any rate is an excellent rule to follow in the spirit, if not in the letter, when dibbing. In dibbing the trout comes freely and unsuspectingly, because the fly is presented in such a perfectly natural manner, there being no " drag," and neither line nor gut on the water. Possibly trout [ occasionally "spit out" the fly—though this is not well proven—when fished for in the ordinary 1 A friend relates the following experience. Once, as he sat idly in his canoe on a Scandinavian river, he noticed a couple of parr moving about almost within reach of his hand. On dangling his lure—a medium-sized salmon fly—over their heads, two or three inches above the water, he observed that both fish repeatedly jumped at it, with such good aim as to strike it several times, more than once colliding in the air as they rose together. This performance went on for a minute or two, after which the fish, though not scared, and attending strictly to the business of taking food as it floated past them, paid no more attention to the hanging fly. My friend adds that he has also not infrequently caught trout while dibbing for them in sheltered places, the fish leaping at the fly before it reached the water. -J I r 134 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY way, becoming quickly aware of the deception. But when a dibbed-for trout takes the fly there is, so far as my experience and that of others goes, no danger of the kind. I have given a trout several seconds before driving the hook well home, and never repented it: I have now and then struck too soon, and always repented it. The hook driven well home, the real fight begins. The angler should, I think, always have a foot or two of loose line in his hand, to pay out ungrudgingly to the trout in his first wild rush for liberty. If he neglects this precaution the smash may come at once, instead of being deferred or altogether averted. These wildly-wooded spots are the fastnesses of the trout. The fish knows his strength in such places, and usually—though not absolutely always—strains every nerve, as it were, to break away at once. After the foot or so—in some cases one dare not give him quite so much as a foot—of line has been paid out, there must be no further concession on the part of the angler. Forthwith, the butt's1 the word. The angler 1 To give a fish the butt is really nothing more or less than to put a heavy strain on him and let him bend the rod like a bow. "I was very much excited. Sometimes I gave a jerk \i DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 135 must simply hold on like grim death, risking everything even to the top joint of his trusty little rod. To let his fish—to adopt an equine metaphor—get the bit between his teeth, is to lose him to a certainty. Another inch and he will be in the snags, or weeds, or amid the jungle of the riverside, and then all's lost indeed. As a rule, if you do not smother your trout and get him into the landing-net before he has had an opportunity of putting forth his full strength, and of exercising his full resourcefulness, the gut- cast at the fine end will be broken, for as dibbed^ and a pull, and then the fish would give a jerk and a pull. Directly I heard some one running toward me, and then I heard Euphemia cry out— " * Give him the butt! Give him the butt!' "i Give him what 1' I exclaimed, without having time even to look at her. " * The butt! the butt!' she cried almost breathlessly. ' I know that's right! I read how Edward Everett Hale did it in the Adirondacks.' " ' No; it wasn't Hale at all,' said I, as I jumped about the bank; ' it was Mr. Murray.' " ' Well, it was one of those fishing ministers, and I know that it caught the fish.' " ■ I know, I know. I read it, but I don't know how to do it.' "' Perhaps you ought to punch him with it,' said she."—Rudder Grange. 136 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY for trout are but rarely lightly hooked, there is little chance of the fly coming away. Of course, if the trout be a lusty one, he will likely smash you in any case, but the short and sharp method of dealing with him is the best chance you have. When dibbing with the artificial May-fly, coarser tackle can be used, and then, unless of course the trout should chance to be a three-pounder or more, the angler will feel much more confident. About the fattest fish I ever recollect taking was when dibbing with the May-fly in a terribly awkward place. In his mouth were two artificial Duns, one left there by myself on the preceding day after a furious struggle and a smash, and one by a friend a couple of days before. That fish was proof against hooks such as small artificial Duns are dressed on, but a May-fly on comparatively, coarse gut, and plenty of butt, brought him to creel in a minute or so. He gallantly sprang out of the water once, and fell deliberately, as it seemed, on a dead branch, but the hook held, and nothing could save him. In dibbing the fly should be perfectly dry— let there be no mistake about that. Trout, in these wooded and—in the eyes of most anglers— inaccessible spots, are not over-particular as to the kind of fly presented to them, provided it DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 137 is all right in regard to size, but they like it dry. Now, it is a serious business keeping the fly dry in these spots. The angler is so hemmed in that he cannot, as a rule, dry it by half-a- dozen casts or so backwards and forwards, as he does in the open; and it is a laborious and also a risky affair withdrawing the rod from the bushes, because a false movement will set the fish down. As I have already said, a trout fairly on the rise amongst the bushes and rank herbage is a business-like fellow, and if the fly is properly presented to him it will usually be taken. At any rate, he will not follow it down, and behave in the hesitating manner a wary fish often does in the open—he will either have it, or leave it quite alone. But then in these places it is by no means possible to reckon on getting the fly properly to him at the first attempt. Often enough these trout are roamers ; that is, instead of taking up a fixed position for feeding purposes, they swim up and down some little bay or creek, picking up a fly here and a fly there in the course of their wanderings. To get the fly to a roamer may require considerable patience and application, even after one has got into position for dibbing, and inserted the rod through the riverside jungle. Thus the fly has 138 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY often to be withdrawn and dried, and not seldom have I found it best to take the fly between the fingers and squeeze out the water, instead of retiring to an open place, and there going through the ordinary process. There is for getting over this difficulty a device which of late years has come into favour with many Dry Fly anglers for ordinary open stream work, namely, the anointing of the flies with paraffin or Peter's oil. Not long since there was quite a vigorous little discussion as to who discovered the virtues of paraffin for making flies float. It seems that the credit for the discovery is due to a descendant of Colonel Hawker, who authorized the late Mr. Andrews the pisciculturist to publish the facts relating thereto. If my memory serves me right, Mr. Andrews, with due gravity of demeanour, confided this profoundly important fact to me, accompanying the information with a little bottle of the fluid, corked and sealed with red wax, on which were stamped his own initials. Never, said he, whatever you do, be without your paraffin. I could not bring myself to take quite so serious a view, and in one of my regular contributions to the Pall Mall Gazette on 11 DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 139 Dry Fly matters, wrote in perhaps a somewhat irreverent strain:—" Paraffin is now carried about by a considerable number of anglers for anointing their artificial flies. Some have come to swear by it, and have the little bottle out every half-hour or so to paint the fly with. It certainly does help to make the fly float well with little effort on the part of the angler, and is thus rather useful when several hours' hard work with the rod have begun to blister the hand. For May-fly fishing in wet weather a little bottle of paraffin is especially valuable. But ordinarily, we fancy, the good sportsman will not trouble his head about it. The angler who is not up to the exertion of drying his fly in the usual method is about on a par with the gunner who takes his camp-stool out pheasant shooting. He had better by far have his hooks baited for him, and recline in luxurious ease. The paraffin man, however, takes a widely different view. If, having started on a fishing expedition, he found that he had left his bottle at home, then would blank despair claim him for its own. Back perhaps he would go, even with the river * boiling' with rising trout, as only a man retires who has broken his middle joint, or by 140 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY a hideous oversight left his reel and line at home. But paraffin has a rival now in vaseline, which some use in preference for anointing line and gut. To cap everything of the kind, wre are credibly assured that there is an angler who never goes down to the river without a supply of aniline dyes. By the aid of these he can exactly imitate the shade of fly which happens to be hatching out. If this sort of thing goes much further, the fisherman's outfit will not be complete without a small chest full of bottles and brushes. There is usually enough as it is to carry about while fishing, even when the creel is empty." Whilst abiding by the opinion here expressed, that under ordinary circumstances the sportsman will do without the paraffin bottle, it can be conceded that the device may be often of real service in dibbing. There is no need to soak the fly in the paraffin; all that is needed is to give the wings and body a light coating with a twig. The paraffin will not lose its power of making the fly float for a considerable while, and so far as I have observed, it is not in any way offensive to the trout. A tiny bottle, half full of the fluid, will last a long while, and it may be stowed away comfortably in the waistcoat pocket. The DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY Ul objection to the general and invariable use of paraffin in Dry Fly fishing is, to my mind, that it tends to make angling too easy and luxurious. The drying of the fly, it is perfectly true, is, when there is a steady rise throughout the day, or a big rise for an hour or so without a break, hard work. Yet it is a delightful exercise, giving play to muscles not often used in other sports and pastimes. If the object of the fisherman is to be the avoidance of all exertion that is not absolutely necessary, he will be ending up by not going out at all, unless the weather and all other conditions promise sport, or else he will be wheeled about in a bath-chair, and have scouts to signal to him the whereabouts of a rising fish. Long since, on one of the chief fishing club waters in the South, the water-keeper was furnished with a pair of field-glasses for the use of members, who might thereby be enabled to sit at their ease and scan the river for rises, instead of hunting for them, as every man with the true instincts of a sportsman must always prefer to do. Could anything be more ridiculous than this kind of thing ? Why, it entirely puts into the shade some of the luxurious customs inseparable from the huge battues of to-day, which have taken the place of the rare old style of shooting fur and J 142 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY feather with dogs as the chief or only game- finders.1 For every brace of good trout killed in dibbing with a small artificial fly the angler must expect to lose at least a brace and a half, and for this reason perhaps some Dry Fly fishermen will be inclined to regard the whole practice askance. The movements of the angler who is dibbing, and the way in which he uses his rod, are deemed by the uninitiated to be suggestive of an unlawful method of fishing. I have heard of an accomplished angler and excellent all- round sportsman, who aroused the suspicions of a water-keeper, partly because of the way in which he stole about, haunting spots deemed impossible for fly fishing, and partly because he nearly always brought home something, even on 1 Eield-glasses for trout fishing are simply foolish. But a friend tells me that on several occasions in low water he has found a pair of water-glasses, such as are used in sea fishing for discovering the whereabouts of shoals of herrings, etc., of real service in his salmon river in Finland. On one occasion when sport, owing to the lowness and brightness of the water, was very bad, he drifted down-stream in his boat, scanning the depths in order to discover a fish. Presently he found one in a pool not commonly frequented by salmon, at a considerable depth. He at once went ashore, and informed his fishing partner, who repaired to the spot and enticed the fish with a prawn. DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 143 days when half-a-dozen anglers had been heard to declare that they had " not seen a rise all day long." The suspect was accordingly watched at his stealthy operations, and genuine was the keeper's surprise when he discovered that no worm nor gross bait was- used, but the trout tempted by the driest of artificial Duns and Spinners. I myself have for killing good fish on hopeless days incurred the disapproval of a past-master. Seeing me perched on an islet one June afternoon, and trying to get an impossible fish which was taking fly after fly, he demanded, quite sternly too, how I managed to get into so extraordinary a position, and what I was doing there. It is not pleasant to be thus worried after you have lost several flies and gut-casts in the trees—this was not exactly a case of dibbing, but of very awkward short casts—in the attempt to get to a fish in a cruel spot; so the somewhat laconic reply to his questions was, " Trout up." " Oh," the past-master replied confidently, though he could barely see the rod, much less the fish, "I know—male fish taking nymphce; no good at all." He was wont also, this angler, to associate the practice of dibbing with the use of the live insect, which would no doubt be 1 144 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY effective, if a Dry Fly angler could be found sufficiently snobbish to resort to it in waters where it is prohibited. Anglers of experience and sense are not likely to bring charges of illegality against dibbing with the Dry Fly, but I can understand, though not necessarily agree with, their objection to a practice which must result in a good many trout being hooked and lost, and thus rendered very shy of the artificial fly. A similar objection has been lodged against late evening fishing; but it should be borne in mind that, whereas in evening fishing the fish hooked, lost, and rendered shy are those which frequent the most open parts of the stream, the fish so treated in dibbing live in spots perfectly inaccessible to the angler who confines himself to the ordinary methods of casting. A dibbed-for fish , can, after a time, no doubt be over-educated, but seeing that in the great majority of cases he resides the entire season in the jungle, this does not in the least affect the sport of the man who fishes only the open stream and the accessible backwaters. Even if he does desert his jungle, and henceforth frequent the open stream, after having been once or twice hooked or pricked, is this added wariness of his so great a misfortune DIBBING WITH THE DRY FLY 145 from an angling point of view ? We all bike to get fish; as Dame Juliana Berners observes in her quaint treatise—" Yf the angler take fysshe: surely thenne is there noo man merier than he is in his spyryte." Yet for all our plaints about the over-education and the fastidiousness of trout in these days, few who have thoroughly. mastered the art of the Dry Fly would really desire to see fish come to hook as they appear to have done in Colonel Hawker's time. Why is the trout so infinitely above other purely fresh-water fish in this land, in the eyes of the angler who has had experience of all? Because he is more beautiful, more gallant and active, but above all because he is more difficult to deceive. Until you have learnt your way about the jungles, islets, and alleged impossible places to angle in with a fly, you must remain a stranger to the innermost life of the trout brook. When first the writer came to make a study of these angling byways, it occurred to him that he had best keep their pleasant secrets to himself, lest others should rudely thrust their way through the rushes and mighty docks, and trampling out a footpath find their way to his favourite spots and disturb or hook his pet fSr^^ I 146 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY trout. But he is a churl who keeps all the best things of the brookside to himself, for there is room and to spare for all. These jungles and islets are the haunts of mallard, grebe, ' and other shy water-fowl. In May and early June the small brown nightingale here sings lengthy songs to his sitting mate by day, and snatches by night; whilst, in the densest spots of all, the reed-warbler hangs its long and wondrously weaved nest in the rushes, as secure against the rude hand of the nest-hunter as it is in the backwaters and islets of the remote Isis far above Oxford. The splendid cock pheasant and the tiny kingfisher giver glints of brightest red and blue to relieve, if relief be needed, the deep green of bountiful mother earth. The foxglove, willow-herb, and delicious meadow-sweet grow in the greatest profusion, the first-named sometimes as tall as the giant specimens to be found in the recesses of the New Forest; whilst the true riverside forget- me-not is lovelier here than the loveliest of blue skies. It is a world of its own, this wooded fastness of the trout—beautiful beyond expression and beyond belief! CHAPTER VII EVENING FISHING There is a glamour about evening fishing which must appeal to every angler, whether his quarry be the noble salmon in the great, impetuous rivers of Scotland or Norway, the trout in the leafy chalk streams of Hertfordshire, or the troutlet in the never silent brooks that water the remote and desolate moors of Somerset and Devon. To the Dry Fly angler evening and night fishing, by which is meant fishing up to nine o'clock or thereabouts, lack this single charm—the movements of the trout are no longer clearly to be seen. Evening fishing scarcely begins till June, and it lasts from then till the end of the season, though the evening rise of September is naturally a very short one, the riverside swiftly becoming cold and dismal after the sun sets, when damp mists have put an end to all sport with the fly. The latter end of June, and the months 147 148 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY of July and August, have always seemed to me to be pre-eminently the season for evening fishing. When the water is low and clear, trout of a respectable size are very chary of having anything to do with an artificial fly in the open stream, or the bays and backwaters, during the garish light of day. Thus often for a week or so at a stretch, the Dry Fly angler wanders about scarcely expecting a rise the afternoon through, but confident of picking up a brace or two at sun-down, when the quietude of night has begun to steal over the riverside. Now, "in the dusking leaf," is the time when the big trout, which have been conspicuous by their absence since the May-fly glut, glide cautiously out of their dim hiding-places, and for an hour or so deign to partake of a small meal of Duns, Spinners, or flies of the family of the Phryganidce. One writer has divided the evening rise into three parts—first, the rise of the trout at the ordinary small water flies, the Duns and Spinners; secondly, the rise at the small Sedge; and, lastly, the rise at the larger kind of Sedge, which seems to hatch out on the Test and other streams more freely at, or about, dusk. There is not the least doubt, however, that the ordinary small fly rise, EVENING FISHING 149 which commences on a summer evening after a burning day, lasts far into the night in some streams. I have repeatedly observed considerable hatches of Duns after eight, and up to nine o'clock. The exact species of the Dun I have not been able to determine—though inclining to the opinion that it was an ordinary light or dark Olive — owing to the absence of light, but that it was a Dun I have felt as certain as it is possible to be. A good and an enthusiastic Dry Fly angler, who one season went daily backwards and forwards between Manchester and Bakewell—a matter of close -on eighty miles in all—in order to get an hour or two's fishing in the evenings, has killed a trout with an Olive Dun as Bakewell Church clock has been striking ten o'clock! Many a time I have with an Olive killed trout on the Darenth—a good stream for evening fishing—between eight and nine in the month of August, and I have a vivid recollection of hooking and losing trout after trout one night on the Kennet after ten o'clock had struck somewhere in the pleasant, old-fashioned town of Hungerford. In the last-named case the fly used was not a Dun, but a small silver Sedge, there being a vast number of these insects 150 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY buzzing about the riverside. The trout on this occasion were rising all over the stream, and making' a vast commotion, which by the way is very far from being a sure sign that they are taking the insect in its sub-imago or imago state. Trout in much-fished waters are as a rule •easier to deceive in the dusk, and in the semi- darkness, than in the daytime; but it is quite a mistake to suppose that they will, therefore, put up with anything. To begin With, it is absolutely necessary, when fishing Dry Fly, to avoid the "drag." I recollect at a dark bend of the stream one evening, when the water, held up probably by the mills, had died away in parts to a mere trickle, hearing a good trout rise somewhere under the opposite bank. As has been pointed out, the ordinary rise of a heavy trout is a very dignified, quiet kind of proceeding—a suck, with no ^accompanying sound whatever, and sometimes with no sign save a little bubble. But the rule is not invariable, and on occasions a loud-sounding (but not splashy) rise is instinctively recognized by the angler as that of a heavy trout. In swift, smooth runs a fish often makes a noise in rising, whether he be trout or grayling, and at night in particular these ■If EVENING. FISHING 151 resounding rises are often noticeable; in fact, they may be in dark spots the sole guide to the whereabouts of a rising fish. Perhaps this more impetuous rise is due to the fact that the trout feels more secure and bolder in the semi-darkness, or possibly to the fact that his appetite is more voracious then. It is certain that trout at night do sometimes rise noisily at Duns and other flies in spots where they rise quietly in the daytime. For some few minutes I could not discover the exact spot, where my trout on this particular evening was taking flies in such a noisy style, as the light was very bad. But by keeping my eyes fixed on the spot close to the bank immediately opposite whence the sound appeared to come, we were able after a while to pretty accurately locate the fish, which was rising several times a minute. A dozen casts, the fly being carefully dried each time, brought no response whatever, and the darkness being now altogether too opaque, the attempt was abandoned. The fly —a light Olive Quill, or Dun—with which this trout was assailed had been killing well during the evening rise, and there was no reason to doubt that the trout was taking the natural Dun. What was the reason of my complete 152 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY failure to tempt him ? A friend explained it. " Just at the point you were fishing," said he, "there is always a drag when the river is low." This in all probability was the true explanation. I knew there was ordinarily no drag at this particular spot, and had not calculated on the altered conditions caused by the extreme lowness of the water. It was too dark to discover the change in the flow of the water, although it is astonishing how much you can see of the stream by intently watching after your eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness.1 The " drag " then—when fishing with the Dry Fly—is not less fatal to sport in evening-than in broad daylight. In my opinion, it is quite as desirable to fish with a dry, and—where an ephemera in the sub-imago state is used^—with a " cocked " fly in evening as in day angling. The 1 In the daytime the eye will soon accustom itself to dark, deep-flowing, or quiet water, in which it seems at first an impossible task to distinguish anything. More than once a Welsh gillie has seen in a few moments, and pointed out, a salmon lying far down in rough, dark water, which it has taken me a matter of several minutes to but faintly distinguish. It is to be feared that this power of vision is occasionally turned by the poacher to the base purposes of snatching salmon; but to the Dry Ely fisherman it is of the greatest service at times, enabling him to exactly discover what the fish are really doing, whether taking fly, or merely " bulging " at nymphce, etc. EVENING FISHING 153 fact that trout rise well and accurately at flies in the dusk and the semi-darkness shows that they can see pretty well in that light—therefore the artificial should be presented as if it were still quite light. Grayling do not as a rule go in for the evening rise like trout. . Very likely, if there » has been any surface food about, they have been hard at it all the afternoon in the blazing sunshine—a time at which they are often most earnest risers—and have, therefore, had their fill; or it may be that the grayling knows he will have a great deal of trouble for very little gain, if he settles down to a rise when his beloved sun has set and the darkness is closing in. He comes up from a greater depth after the fly than the trout, and often misses his aim in the daytime ; at night his difficulties may be still greater. Avoid the " drag," keep your Dun dry, and you can look for sport on soft, still evenings, when the big trout are up and doing. As for the exact shade of fly, there seems to be a consensus of opinion amongst Dry Fly authorities that this is not a matter of vast importance; indeed, you cannot well tell what shade the natural fly is, and therefore a frequent changing of one shade of Olive or J 154 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY of Sedge for another, and of one kind of fly for another, is at the best but mere guesswork. My own favourite fly on various streams for the evening fishing, is a Bed Quill Gnat, not dressed on too small a hook; yet if the evening rise finds me with an Olive Dun or an Apple-Green on, I usually refrain from changing the fly, a process which takes time—whether eyed hooks or hooks dressed on gut are in use —when time is most precious. Of course, where the Sedge comes on in quantities, it is the fry to be tried, in preference to any other. Spinners, too, and Spent Gnats come out in the evening, and sometimes they are exceedingly deadly, but even when the trout are feeding freely on the latter—which is the imago of the May-fly— they may be induced to look at other lures. The Spent Gnat will ever be connected in my mind with Whit-Monday 1895, which is referred to in another part of this hook. On that evening big fish rose in short, sharp bursts at the Spent Gnat as I had never seen them rise before; and yet they freely took a " fly " dressed on a double hook, and called a Palmer, to which I was driven through dire necessity. I have a weakness for the Red Quill Gnat, because in August 1890 I with that fly EVENING FISHING 155 steadily killed good fish of far above the average weight, every evening for about a week, when no other angler got a decent trout. Each evening the Red Quill killed its handsome trout or brace of trout, at about the same hour, namely, between half-past seven and half-past eight o'clock. The best trout of the series scaled just under If lbs., and gave more sport by far than I ever recollect a trout of 2 lbs. or 2^ lbs. giving on a southern stream. The history of its capture was as follows:—Shortly after sunset, three of us anglers who had been out since nine or ten in the morning met at the riverside, and strolled leisurely homewards, dilating on what all were agreed had been absolutely the worst day of a long and unbroken succession of bad days. Arrived at a point where the stream almost touches the road, we stood still for a few minutes, and looked hopelessly at the water as it curled round a sharp bend and passed through a very wooded corner, with a spinney on one side and an islet on the other. From a certain spot in the spinney, which was on the opposite bank, and known as "the Rookery," it was possible to cast across under the islet, and many a good fish had been hooked and slain there. For il 156 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY long hours nobody had seen the ghost of a rise on any part of the stream. Now, however, as the three disconsolate anglers stood and condemned the fish and the water, and their woeful ill-fortune, with no measured condemnation, one of them—the writer—fancied he saw in the twilight, just the faintest, most modest of dimples in an eddy under the bank of the islet. Crossing the river a little higher up, bjr some stepping stones, I made my way to the open place in the Rookery, and kneeling on an old stump watched earnestly for a while. Presently the faint, modest dimple was repeated, and then I knew that either a very small, or else a really big, trout must be feeding there. The open space is only open in so far as trees are concerned; in other respects it is covered with a vast undergrowth of the mightiest docks, with sedges, with beds o§- stinging nettles, with jminiature forests of nightshade, willow-herb, and meadowT-sweet. It was already fast growing dark at the Rookery, and the cast was not a short one. Somehow the line wouldnyt travel out clean and straight to where the fish was moving. Now the fly caught in a bunch of willow-herbs, and now in the sedges; when, IL EVENING FISHING 157 up to the shoulders in the rank vegetation, I went to extract it, I stumbled into a ditch filled with nettles; then the line wound round and round the docks, and had to be reeled up before all was ready for a fresh cast. At length the fly went across the stream, and, oh joy! he came at it; but. oh misery! I missed him. Then more casting, and more catching in those vile herbs. But again the fly went out, and up he flashed, fiery red, as it seemed, like a char, owing to some odd effect of the uncertain light. This time he had it, and whirr-r-r-r went the line off the reel as he turned and rushed down-stream upon feeling the hook driven well home! Suddenly the strain on the rod ceased and the point flew up straight. With ominous forebodings I reeled in, when, wonder of wonders, out he dashed from almost underneath my feet, and whirr-r-r-r again went the reel as he tore across stream and stopped in the very spot where he had been first seen dimpling. Several times he sprang clean out of the water, at this point deep and very strong, and once at least after his struggles had somewhat subsided he yet indignantly spurned the landing-net. Such fierce play, however, cannot last long, and, the hook holding relentlessly, I ¥ 153 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY got him, splashing and protesting to the last —gallant trout that he was—into the net, and strode home in the moonlight full of pleasant thoughts. Though an old customer — as his under-jaw, like that of a cock salmon, showed —this trout was in absolutely perfect condition, and beautifully clean and bright. There was not time for him to get stiff or dry in the bag; and, laid on a dish on the well-known old oak table in the hall of the Rutland Arms, he made as charming a picture as any angler could wish to see. He could not have been handsomer, had he scaled 4 lbs. or over, and it is my belief that had he been that weight he would probably not have shown such fierce energy and such dash; though of course a 4-pounder would be an appalling fish to tackle at the Rookery with finest gut and a small This trout made no attempt to get to the weeds, though after his cunning rush back under the angler's feet almost, he had plenty of slack line and could easily have buried himself in several big bunches which grew in that part of the stream, and thus have ended the fight. Trout do not appear "to weed" the angler nearly so often at night, probably because they ml 4 EVENING FISHING 159 do not see him, otherwise it would be next to impossible to kill big fish on fine tackle; and I imagine that it is the same with such grayling as chance to be rising late. Spots, therefore, which look the most dangerous in the semi- darkness, may actually be easier to kill big trout in at night than during the daytime. It may be asked, " How can you fish the rise properly when the darkness sets in, seeing that to be at all successful you have to follow the course of your fly so carefully ?" Well, as a matter of fact, you can often by stooping down, and keeping the sharpest look-out, follow your fly quite distinctly in quiet water, unless you happen to be looking right into what light there is. When you cannot see your fly you look out for some sign of a break in the water, such as a fish rising would make, or you must, in an extreme case, listen for the rise. It is a golden rule in this kind of fishing to have as little line out as possible. With a long line you run a great risk of getting hung up, or worse, of getting line, gut, and fly all mixed up in one terrible tangle, before you know what has happened. It is possible to get very near a rising trout directly darkness begins to set in. Though fish appear to see well enough what is going on within the water, M 160 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY they cannot distinguish much without, and, provided the angler takes care not to allow his figure to cast too much shadow on the water, or to stand out clear-cut against the sky-line, he can get as near as he wants to his quarry. Once on the Darenth, being repeatedly defeated by the " drag" in an attempt to allure a capital riser, I went round and dibbed with a short fine at not a yard's distance from the fish. There was no cover of any sort to shield me, yet the fish saw nothing to alarm him, took the artificial Dun almost directly it touched the water, and was duly tapped on the head a minute later, and transferred to the bag. But this is the only instance I can recollect of successfully dibbing with the Dry Fly at night; ordinarily, the method is out of the question at such a time. Is the use of a large fly on very coarse gut late in the evening, or at night, when big trout are abroad, and the small Dry Fly ineffective, a legitimate form of sport? Some declare that it is not, and are even prepared to say that the practice is akin to downright poaching. Without going this length, I am inclined to think that on regular Dry Fly waters the practice verges on the objectionable. As we have seen, a monstrosity misnamed a fly is on ■L EVENING FISHING 161 certain rivers often resorted to when there is no natural Dun on the water, or when there is a small gale lashing the stream into regular waves. But then it is tied on respectable-looking gut. There are anglers, however, who use a big Sedge as a Dry Fly late in the evening, and that method is of course a perfectly upright one. The late Mr. Thomes Andrews of Crichmere assured me that most of his big fish—up to, and indeed over, 5 lbs. —taken late in the evening on the upper waters of the Wey, and on the Tillingbourne, its once troutful tributary, were killed with a large Sedge fished dry—and latterly well paraffined. It is quite certain that the big fly, or big monstrosity, is in some streams the deadliest lure for really big fish late in the evening. On many stretches of the Kennet it is killing, and in past times I have more than once come across the commoners of the old Hungerford Fly Fishing Club raking the water with huge, hideous Alexandras or something of the kind, after sundown. On the Rutland length of the Derbyshire Wye it is my belief that the big fly and coarse gut method would never be of the slightest use. The Wye trout feed too regularly on Duns, Spinners, and the like, to have anything to say to monstrosi- 16* THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY ties; whereas the biggest Kennet trout, like those on certain lengths of the Ver, practically ignore small flies altogether. On the whole it must be admittea that this big fly and coarse gut method is the reverse of pretty and artistic ; but to call it unsportsmanlike is quite another thing — especially when it is tried as a last resource. Some streams rarely, if ever, produce good evening fishing. From personal observation I am inclined to think that the larger streams are as a rule better adapted to this style of angling than the small ones. On a certain length of the Hertfordshire Mimram, I have been assured by the water-keeper, a close and accurate observer, that an evening rise is a rare event; but several miles further down stream, on the other hand, the rise is often an exceedingly good one, as the warm summer nights close in. On streams which are much fished good trout, as I have remarked, will, when the water is very low and bright as gin, scarcely look at a fly all day, even though there be a little natural Dun out. At such periods they usually come to the surface for an hour or so after the sun has set, and cruise about on the look-out for food, even when there is no hatch whatever of lit: EVENING FISHING 163 fly. Trout under these conditions will take quite as readily as if they were actually rising at fly. Often one knows instinctively that a trout is after flies and will come to the artificial, if it is fairly presented to him, though he has not been observed to break the surface of the water. These are the exceptions to the rule of the Dry Fly angler to "fish the rise" only. Trout, and very good ones too, are taken in the evening in this manner. That flies are food of which trout are particularly fond is shown by the fact that the confirmed "tailers" will—in most streams—usually stop shrimping directly a hatch of Duns takes place, and " come on" at the latter with avidity. Yet it must be far easier to get a good meal of shrimps and food of that description than of Duns, or of the ridiculous little midges, which big trout (whom one might expect to know better) simply dote upon. The occasional bitter disappointments of the angler, who hopefully waits for the evening rise, have been frequently dwelt upon. There is no denying that it is galling to find trout all around one rising, and rising to all appearances at fly, and yet be unable to attract a single one of them. On a few occasions I have actually left the river " boiling" with rising trout, and ii ^d r 164 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY wended my way home, rather mortified by my total inability to rise a fish, or worse, by the knowledge that every fish I put a fly over at once stopped rising. Yet, on the whole, in evening fishing many Dry Fly anglers must always find keen and choice delights. What a fascination there is about the darker and darker flowing water, and what possibilities in the way of very heavy trout lurk in deep, still pool and eddy! Then, after the steam has begun to rise like smoke from the river—the signal for trout to instantly cease rising—how delightful that walk back home, whilst the setting sun and the rising moon are rivals in the cloudless sky of midsummer. Now and again the angler may stop for a few moments to listen to the distant voices of the late returning haymakers or field labourers, and to the low singing of the stream amid its reeds and against its loving willows; to watch the faint light flicker on the water, and to enjoy the perfume of the fresh-mown hay. Then it is that the solitary heron, winging homewards to its great nest-tree, takes to itself some portion of the mystery and the sadness of the departed day; whilst a startled wild duck, fluttering up with loud cry from a reed-bed in EVENING FISHING 165 mid-stream, dashes off on noisy pinions, to leave the sense of silence and repose only deeper than before. Happy the angler who can carry, etched on the tablets of his memory, some even faint impression of these delicious sights and sounds. They will be good to recall and ponder over another evening, when the rod has been laid aside perforce, instead of merely shouldered— the evening of his life. i CHAPTER VIII CONCERNING TROUT FLEES There is no question in connection with angling on which such a number of confusing and contradictory theories have been advanced, and rules laid down, as that of the artificial flies to be used in trout fishing. The bare enumeration of the flies, some being imitations more or less close of natural insects and others of a purely fancy character, recommended since Cotton's time, would easily fill a volume; whilst, if directions as to the dressing of the same, and as to the particular season and time of day when these flies might most properly be used, were to be added, a fair-sized book-case would scarcely be capable of holding the literature relating to the subject. Take, for instance, that pleasant old volume of Thomas Best's, A Concise Treatise on the Art of Angling.1 In the second part of 1 Best's Art of Angling must have been, as it deserved, a popular book in its day. My own battered old copy, dated 1810, is one of the Ninth Edition; and this, I think, was not the latest. 166 . jgaKrTJBIHttfigi CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 167 the treatise, entitled " The Complete Fly-fisher," we have not only minute directions as to the flies to be used during certain months, and under certain atmospheric conditions, but at certain hours of the day. "The Pale Blue," says Best, is "a very killing fly from ten in the morning till three in the afternoon;" the Great Red Spinner " kills very well till the latter end of August, from six o'clock till twilight, upon a dark-coloured water;" the Little Whirling Dun " comes on the water on the 12th of April, and is taken in the middle of the day and all the month through, and in blustering weather to the end of June;" the Violet Fly " kills very well from the sixth to the tenth of April;" whilst the Yellow Dun " is taken from eight to eleven and from two till four." Few angling authorities, perhaps, have gone the length of Best in laying down rules as to the exact hours when such and such a fly should be used, but precise directions as to the different kinds of flies to be used for the different months have been, and indeed are still, very frequently given; whilst some of the older books for holding flies with gut attached actually contain for the use of the beginner interleaved notes on the subject. Small wonder that there 16& THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY are people wrho Tiesitate to take to fly-fishing, owing to what they imagine to be the great difficulty of mastering the necessary information about the flies which they must use as the authorities direct. Dry Fly fishing has no doubt added to the enormous number of artificial flies and patterns already in existence, the conglomeration of several centuries. Such flies for example as the Pink Wickham, Hamond's Selected, the Whitchurch, the Intermediate, the Blue Winged Olive, Flight's Fancy, and many other lures, both fancy and imitation, owe their existence to the ingenuity of the pioneers of Dry Fly fishing; whilst every season sees a host of improvements or reforms in the method of dressing various existing patterns. The Olive Dun and the May-fly of 1895 were no doubt claimed by the professional tiers to be a considerable improvement on the patterns in use in the preceding season, and the flies pf 1897 will be declared more effective than those of the present year. At the same time, there can be little question that the tendency of Dry Fly fishing is, on the whole, towards restricting the number of necessary flies and patterns, and therefore of simplifying IL -^^^sagr^^gffi CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 169 a hitherto most complex and confusing branch of angling. We are coming more and more to recognize that it is not so much the kind of fly used that brings wary trout to basket, as .the resourcefulness, patience, and dexterity of the angler who casts it. The Dry Fly angler watches the trout in the water more closely than the angler who fishes the stream. He is bound to do this to obtain sport, and he has—thanks to the character of the water which he fishes —far better opportunities of doing so than the Wet Fly angler. As a result, he has discovered that the variety of natural flies upon which the trout regularly feed is decidedly limited. Many of the flies, which used to be held indispensable to the complete equipment of the fly fisherman, whether he fished in North or South country streams, whether in clear, slow- flowing waters, or in tumultuous and dark- coloured ones, have been long since dispensed with altogether by those who "fish the rise." Flat-winged as well as hackle flies can, it is true, be used for Dry Fly work, and made to float—especially with the aid of the paraffin— almost as satisfactorily as the imitations of the Ephemeridce (the Duns, May-flies, and March- browns) expressly made with "split" or separate 170 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY wings for this method of angling; but with a few exceptions they are not commonly resorted to. The great principle of Dry Fly fishing being to imitate Nature as closely as possible, the angler is naturally inclined to limit his choice of artificial flies to the imitations of those kinds of insects which are to be observed on the water in any quantity. These insects, so far as Dry Fly waters are concerned, can almost be reckoned up on the fingers of both hands, and the following fist will, I think, be found to exclude no fly of importance to the angler:— The Olive and Blue Duns and the Red Spinner, the Iron Blue Dun and the Jenny Spinner, the March-brown and the Great Red Spinner, the Yellow Dun, the Red Quill Gnat, the May-fly and the Spent Gnat, the Alder, the Sedge, and the Grannom. A good many anglers would probably be inclined to fine down this list of flies for general Dry Fly purposes. The Grannom is only found on a very few of the regular Dry Fly waters, such as the Kennet and the Lambourne, where it sometimes comes on in April in vast quantities, without being necessarily productive of sport; the Jenny Spinner, which is the imago, or perfect form, of the little Iron Blue Dun—as the small Red Spinner is i Ik *4*PB? CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 171 of the Olive or Blue Dun, the Great Red Spinner of the March-brown, and the Spent Gnat of the May-fly—has never yet been satisfactorily imitated; whilst the Great Red Spinner is exceedingly rarely used as a single floating fly by either North or South country fishermen. The list therefore might for ordinary purposes be reduced, so as to include only the following:—The Olive and Blue Duns and their imago the Red Spinner, the Iron Blue Dun, the March-brown, the—Yellow Dun, the Red Quill Gnats, the May-fly and its imago the Spent Gnat, the Alder, and the Sedge. And I am bound to say that the Dry Fly angler who has his box or book fairly well filled with a good assortment of well-dressed patterns of these flies, and is yet unable to do anything with the trout, cannot reasonably attribute his lack of success to the fact that he is without "the right fly." Personally, I confine myself to Olive, Iron Blue, and Yellow Duns, Red Quill Gnat, Alder, Sedge, May-fly (when the May-fly season is on), together with two fancy flies, the Wickham and the Governor—to which reference will be made later on—and always feel sure, after a blank or a bad day, that the fault has lain either with myself or with the 1 M ill 172s THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY; trout—preferably the former—and not with the lure. The Olive Dun may be pretty safely described as the predominating fly used in this style of angling, and there are good and experienced fishermen who are accustomed to declare that in the case of many Dry Fly waters there is really no occasion to go beyond it. Certainly in every Dry Fly water I have ever seen, "the Olive" appears to be the predominating insect throughout the season, save for the short space of time when the May-fly and the Grannom are on, or when a big hatch of Iron Blues takes place. It may well be regarded as the standard fly of the angler from the beginning to the end of the season. What is known as "the Olive" appears in, to my personal observation, at least half-a-dozen forms, and the patterns dressed by the fly tiers, a few of which will be found illustrated in the plates in this book, of course infinitely exceed that number. Each fly tier has many dressings of his own for representing the Light Olive and the Dark Olive, the Light Olive Quill and the Dark Olive Quill, the Medium Olive, etc., etc. There seems to be little doubt that some of these forms are merely variations in shade, if In' '..irr«^' r CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 173 and also in size, of precisely the same insect. It is proved beyond all question that the Red Spinner is the imago of the Blue Dun and of the Olive Dun, these two Duns being, as a matter of fact, one and the same. Foster, the author of the Scientific Angler, and a fisherman in his day of great repute in the Dovedale district, tells us that he was able to carry out experiments which proved to him that these insects belonged to one and the same species. He obtained the eggs of some Red Spinners, deposited them in a ftsh-hatching box, and watched their various metamorphoses. The first specimens that hatched, a year or so after the eggs had been deposited, took the form of the Blue Dun. This was in February, but later on, when the weather became more genial, the specimens hatched took the form known to anglers as the Olive Dun. The flies became lighter as the season advanced, and there were also variations in regard to size. I find, myself, no difficulty in accepting Foster's assurance that Olive and Blue Duns are one and the same species, the colour varying according to the time of hatching; and that the forms known as the Whirling Blue Dun, the Apple Green, etc., are also nothing more than Hit 174 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY variations of the same species, attributable to atmospheric and kindred causes. When, however, he asserts that the Yellow Dun is a yet further variation, I am strongly inclined to disagree. If the Yellow Dun is merely the Olive Dun in its most summery dress, how is it that one may constantly see hatches of Olive and of Yellow Duns taking place at the same time ? This overlapping certainly seems to point towards the species being distinct. Then again- there is a small fly, which comes on in great quantities in some rivers, which is called by anglers the Watery Dun, a rather puny and unattractive insect, which I am inclined to regard as distinct from the ordinary Olive or Blue Dun. It is not uncommon to find this insect on at the same time as the larger and more attractive-looking Olive Duns, which the trout usually seem more partial to. This Watery Dun is, for some occult reason or other, effective at times against "smutting" fish, which will not look at any other pattern, whether a fancy one or an imitation of some natural insect. The Iron Blue is quite a distinct species from the Olive. It comes on principally on cold days in summer, but with nothing like the regularity of the Olive. One Sunday iar L CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 175 July, I recollect finding the backwaters of the Derbyshire Wye copiously sprinkled with the Iron Blue, and the trout rising at the little fly with great earnestness for an hour or two. Foster says that he once witnessed during a hot summer a great hatch of the Iron Blue upon the Dovedale length of the Dove. It completely enveloped the summits of the surrounding rocks, which appeared to be enveloped by a " thick blue mist." The Grannom, too, comes on at times in tremendous quantities, on the Lambourne and other Southern streams, and on such occasions sport is usually very moderate, for however good an imitation the fly may be which the angler is using, it has but a very small chance of doing execution amongst such a vast crowd of naturals. I recollect an astounding hatch of the Olive Dun on the Derbyshire Wye one misty day in July 1891. It lasted for about three hours in the afternoon, and fish were rising all over the stream during that period. In one large backwater there must have been quite a dozen trout all rising at the fly at the same time. Yet it was next to impossible to do anything with the imitation, for directly it fell on the water it was surrounded and closely accompanied by a host 176 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLJ of naturals. I was driven to seek out spots where the fly was the least thick, and by these tactics did. manage eventually to kill a brace and a half of trout and a brace or so of grayling; but it was the most discouraging work. These phenomenal hatches, whether of Duns, May-flies, or March-browns, are rarely favourable to the angler. When the Sedge is hatching in immense quantities, as it sometimes does by the Darenth, Kennet, and other South-country streams, one has more right to expect sport, because it does not sit on the water and sail down like the Ephemeridce, but rather buzzes about the riverside, now and then accidentally falling into the water, where it is eagerly snapped up by the trout. Big hatches of fly at night are usually even more disappointing than those that occur in the daytime, unless the insect be the Sedge. v A great and well-deserved favourite amongst South-country anglers is the Alder, a flat-winged insect of the Sialidce family, which commonly is to be found crawling about the herbage of the riverside. The Alder is well-nigh indispensable to the Dry Fly angler on Southern waters, and, like the Olive Dun, it will kill the season through. A large Alder is sometimes the very CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 177 best lure for a "tailing" trout, and as a last resource it is often used by Dry Fly anglers, sunk and down-stream, when there is a ripple on the water. The artificial Red Quill Gnat is not a very striking likeness of the natural insect, but it is a most useful fly, and, like the Red Spinner, especially valuable on summer evenings. The very pretty Yellow Dun is not by any means so important to the Dry Fly angler as the Olive Dun, because it does not go on steadily hatching throughout the day and the season, being essentially a summer fly. It is, however, a useful insect, and the Dry Fly angler may find himself much handicapped when there is a hatch of Yellow Duns, and he is unprovided with imitations. According to my observation, the insect occurs but sparingly on a good many Dry Fly waters, and at considerable intervals. There is also a much larger insect belonging apparently to the Ephemeridce, in size about between a large Olive Dun and a May-fly, with upright wings of a very lovely primrose hue. It occasionally comes on in small quantities on warm summer days. I have seen a few specimens sailing down-stream on both Hertfordshire and Derbyshire waters, and now 178 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY and again a trout taking one. This insect is sometimes confounded with the Yellow Sally, owing to similarity in colour, but the latter is a flat-winged fly, belonging to the PerUdce order. I have alluded to this interesting insect as being apparently one of the Ephemeridce, because it possesses the striking characteristics of that family of water flies, notably the upright wings and the habit of sailing downstream as the Duns and May-flies do. But I have not been able to absolutely identify it with any species described by those who have written with authority on water flies.1 The water flies of the class with which the angler is concerned, do not seem to have received the attention they well deserve from modern entomologists. The May-fly is one of the few water insects imitated by the fly-dresser, that has been carefully studied through the various stages of its existence. The researches of Swammerdam,2 Reaumur, and of several ento- 1 Possibly this insect is the not very happily named Little May Dun (Baetis longicanda) of Ronalds. 2 Swammerdam was one of the greatest entomologists the world has ever seen, though his working life as a naturalist was compressed within a period of ten years, from 1663 to 1673. He possessed in an eminent degree the qualities indispensable to greatness in a naturalist, such as absolute truthfulness, entire devotion to his work, and a great power IL. CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 179 mologists and anglers of modern times^ have thrown a great deal of light on the interesting life history of that insect, but very little is known for certain about the Duns, and next to nothing about the still smaller insects, the " smuts" or " curses" upon which trout and grayling prey. There remain, in our list of flies more or less indispensable to the Dry Fly angler, two insects which must be referred to; namely, the March- brown and the May-fly, with its imago, the Spent Gnat. It may be urged that the March- brown is rather for the Wet Fly than the Dry Ely angler, seeing that it chiefly appears on the of concentration. The labours of the man, according to the sketch furnished by Boerhaave, were simply astounding. The day he gave up to the insects he was studying; a good portion of the night to writing down what he had seen and learnt during the day. " By six o'clock in the morning in summer he began to find enough light to enable him to trace the mmutice of natural objects. He was hard at work till noon in full sunlight, and bare-headed, so as not to obstruct the light, and his head streamed with profuse sweat. His eyes, by reason of the blaze of light and microscopic toil, became so weakened that he could not observe minute objects in the afternoon, though the light was not less bright than in the morning, for his eyes were weary and could no longer perceive readily." Further, Boerhaave tells us that Swammerdam, who employed tools so fine as to need whetting under the microscope, would spend whole days in clearing a caterpillar / e > f II |, 180 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY more tumultuous streams where the older method is exclusively resorted to. It is a great fly, for instance, in the moorland streams of the West country, as great as the famous Blue Upright itself. But the March-brown is also a very serviceable lure at times to the Dry Fly angler. The artificial will kill on various streams where the natural insect is never seen from one year's end to the other. I fancy that the Lea, far up towards its source, is such a stream, and yet only a few days ago I met an angler who had just done considerable execution — two brace of trout going 9 lbs. — with a small March-brown fished dry. Foster, the author of the Scientific Angler, who fished both styles, found it a good fly on the Dove, which produces the natural insect. Like the Alder, the March- brown is sometimes, when there is a ripple on the water, used with effect by disappointed Dry Fly anglers, as a Wet Fly down-stream. Last on the list comes the May-fly. It used to be an agreeable and popular .tradition that the appearance of " the Drake" meant baskets and bags full to overflowing of heavy trout in the pink of condition, and that during the "May-fly Carnival," as the period at which the insect appears—usually in the South the last few [Tbtface Plate III. AS TIED BY FARLOW I 1. Blue Dun.^ Wings—Light starling. Body—Pale mole fur. Hackle and Whisk—Pale-blue don. .2. Silver Sedge. Wings—Landrail. Body—White floss, ribbed with fine silver wire. Hackle—Pale sandy ginger cock's hackle carried right down the body. 4*. Flight's Fancy. Wings—Palest starling. Body—Very pale yellow floss silk, ribbed wi th fine flat gold. Hackle and Whisk—Pale buff Cochin cock's hackle. 4. Hake's Eab. Wings—Medium starling. Body and Legs—Dark hare's fur, picked out at shoulder to form legs, ribbed with fine flat gold. Whisk—Red cock's hackle. 5. Spent Gnat. («Halford's.") Wing's—4 Blue Andalusian hackles. Head—Bronze peacock's herl. Shoulder Hackle—Grey partridge. ' Bibbing Hackle—Badger cock. Body—White floss silk, ribbed with an unstripped strand of peacock, which is cinnamon-coloured at root, and dark at point, the dark portion being worked at the tail-end. Whisk—Brown mallard. • 6. Bed Qthll. Wings—Medium starling. Body—Peacock's quill dyed reddish. Hackle and Whisk—Bed gamecock. 7. WmTCHintcH. Wings—Pale starling. Body—Grey fur. Hackle and Whisk—Sandy ginger. 8. Nymphae "Mabeyat." Head—Bronze peacock's herl Egyptian goose hackle. Body—Palest buff, maize- coloured floss silk, ribbed with a strand of peacock's herl, which is of pale cinnamon colour at the root. The pale portion of the herl is worked at the shoulders. Whisk—Brown mallard. 9. Little ^Makbyat." Wings—Palest starling. Body—Fur from flank of opossum. Hackle and Whisk—Pale buff Cochin cock. 10. Detached Badges. ("Hal- ford's.'*) Hackle—Badger cock. Body—White horsehair dyed slightly red, the body ribbed with crimson tying silk. Whisk—Pale cream colour. 11. Claeet Spinnee. Wings—Pale starling. Body—Claret floss silk, ribbed with fine gold wire. Hackle—Bed game-cock. Whisk—Cream colour. 12. Pink Wickham. Wings—Landrail. Body—Flat gold. Hackle and Whisk—Bright red bantam cock, carried down from shoulder to tail. Note.—These Flies, with the exception of Nos. 5, 8, and 10, are called roUed wing flies, and are held by a good many anglers to be well suited to Dry Fly work, as they float well and retain an upright position on the water. C"Hr m 7^%# "^wr c« ""Tmrif" tt CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 181 days of May and the first ten days or fortnight of June—has been named by enthusiasts, even the least experienced angler might be sure of plenty of sport. Possibly in old days, when the natural insect was used—as it is still on the Dove, and on the famous West Meath Lakes—sport during the May-fly fortnight or so was more certain than it is to-day, though the successful manipulation of the natural insect must—in the case of rivers at any rate, and where the fly has rather to be cast than merely allowed to be carried by the wind —require a good deal of skill. It is certain that the " May-fly Carnival" of to-day on Dry Fly waters is as a rule productive of no very great sport to any save the clever and resourceful angler. Good bags are frequently made on Test, Itchen, Kennet, Derbyshire Wye, and indeed on most Dry Fly waters where the May-fly regularly appears, by those who are skilful anglers, and are moreover able to wait for perhaps two or three days whilst the fish are devouring the insect before it reaches the surface, or before it actually emerges from the "shuck," and to catch them later when they come fairly on at the floating fly in its sub-imago state. It is too often the lot of a busy man to ■^-^^M^*-^^ Jm 1! 182 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY come in hot haste from his business or professional work in response to the keeper's telegram, " May-fly up," and spend his day or two waiting in vain for the trout to come on at the floating insect, instead of bulging all day at the nymphce below the surface. Then again, whatever may have been the case in the past, it is not often, if ever, the case now on waters where the trout are at all accustomed to the sight of gut, that the appearance of the Mayfly means a marked diminution of intelligence and suspicion on the part of the fish. The bungler, especially if the wind is against him, finds trout very nearly as difficult to capture with the May-fly as with the Duns, though when once hooked they have less chance of escape, owing to the size and strength of the hook. To cast the May-fly in the teeth of the wind is, in my opinion, about the least agreeable kind of Dry Fly fishing there is. In wet weather, too, the work is very hard, as the fly requires much drying: at such times the paraffin bottle is decidedly serviceable. So much for the drawbacks and difiiculties of the May-fly. We may now turn to the bright side of the picture, for the May-fly season, despite its I ft CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 183 frequent disappointments and failures, is the most popular angling period of the year. Even in this fickle climate, we may usually look for pleasant weather when the fly is at its thickest, and never is the riverside more beautiful and luxuriant than at this season, which may almost be described, in the words of the author of the Pageant of Summer, as the time between the wild roses and the June. When the trout, having had their fill of the nymphce—of which they almost invariably partake freely at the commencement of the hatch— settle down to a good steady rise at the floating insect, the Dry Fly angler should be truly in his element. To " spot," stalk, cast to, rise, hook, play, and kill a heavy and perfectly conditioned fish, with a close imitation of the natural insect, on which that fish has been feeding, is always his chief and most legitimate ambition. To hook and kill a good fish by chance, to hook and kill one with an artificial fly other than that on the water, to hook and kill one by fishing down-stream and with a sunk lure—in none of these cases, perhaps, can there be the entire feeling of satisfaction which arises from having achieved "the real thing," as I have heard more than one Dry Fly angler describe the 184 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY7 IL operation when Nature has been exactly copied. I know that some may be inclined to regard this as the mere affectation of the Dry Fly purist; but it is undoubtedly the feeling amongst a large number of Dry Fly anglers. It is conceivable that some of our non-sporting continental neighbours would regard the action of an English gunner in not shooting into the brown of a covey, or in flushing his bird before firing at it, as the mere affectation of a shootisg purist! The analogy is, I admit, not quite perfect, because it is not unsportsmanlike to deviate, even in Dry Fly fishing, a little now and then from the main principles of sport; but it may possibly help to persuade sceptics that affectation is not quite the term to apply to those who are only completely satisfied when they have achieved what they regard as "the real thing " in Dry Fly fishing. Now there is no season when "the real thing" is more practicable than during the May-fly hatch, and when trout are rising earnestly at the floating insect. A good trout rising hard at May-flies will not as a rule have anything to say to fancy flies, small or large, and what is more, he will not have anything to say to the artificial May-flies put before his nose 1 CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 185 unless they are excellent likenesses of the naturals which he is taking. Large quantities of the artificial May-flies one sees in the-angler's box and in the shop-windows may fairly be described as huge, hideous, and totally useless. In the following chapter on the Wye, Mr. Booth—than whom surely no more skilful, or successful, angler ever cast a Dry Fly on a Derbyshire water—offers some valuable remarks on the best kind of artificial May-flies for that stream. The hackle fly, which he recommends, and which he may almost be said to have introduced a few years since on the Eutland length of the stream, might, I believe, be much more generally used than it is at present. I should, however, somewhat hesitate to start out to fish certain of our Southern streams, where trout run very big, unless provided with a May-fly somewhat larger than the winged imitation now commonly dressed by Manchester makers for the Derbyshire waters. Despite statements to the contrary, the fly somewhat varies in size in different rivers; and I can remember at least one instance, when, having exhausted my stock of light-coloured and rather large May-flies, I found the smaller and rather darker imitation perfectly useless. This instance, which I 186 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY have recalled to myself time after time, though it occurred not a great while since, may be worth relating. On a very sultry June day, and towards the end of the May-fly season, I availed myself of an invitation to fish a certain stretch of fine water in Hertfordshire which was reported to hold some heavy trout and had not been tried more than two or three times that year. I found the water an ideal one for big trout, but terribly overgrown with weed throughout its entire length. There was no May-fly hatching when I arrived on the water, and very little small fly about. The sun was extremely powerful, and the chances of sport under these circumstances seemed decidedly remote, so far as the morning and the early hours of the afternoon were concerned. I did, however, after a time, discover a trout lying very high in the water, in a streamy place, and under the grateful shade of a great oak tree. He would have nothing to say to small flies, and was equally scornful of a small May-fly which was put over him. I then tried the fish with a large and very light-coloured May-fly with straw body, and to my surprise he rose at this somewhat garish-looking lure, at the first cast, and CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 187 was hooked. A short, sharp rush up-stream, a quick return, and he was in the weeds; the hook came away, and a good trout was lost. After this misfortune, I found nothing stirring till the evening, when the Spent Gnat came on in fair quantities. Not a breath of wind disturbed the atmosphere, and the sultriness of the evening was well-nigh intolerable, so much so that I took off my coat and fished in my shirt-sleeves. Suddenly I found myself in the midst of such a rise of big trout as I had never seen before or even imagined. The stream at this point being rather rapid, the fish made a considerable noise as they came ravenously at the Spent Gnat, and I could see at least half-a- dozen heavy fish within a space of fifty yards or so, all well up. I speedily hooked a very big trout indeed in a small backwater, which after two furious rushes took me into a great bunch of weeds, out of which nothing I could do would stir him. I had to break the cast after wasting quite ten minutes, and hastily tying on another fly devoted myself to a fresh fish. But ill- fortune steadily pursued me, and I lost one big fish after another, till my stock of large Mayflies—which was very small to start with—was completely exhausted. Then I again tried a 1 188 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY smaller May-fly, but in vain. Ultimately I turned to a large Palmer dressed on a double hook. The fly would not sink properly, and therefore had to be used as a huge Dry Fly! So demented were the big trout that they actually rose to this ridiculous lure, and I killed a beautiful fish of 3j lbs. almost directly with it. The heaviest fish I hooked that evening I do not hesitate to put down at 5 lbs., and it may well have been considerably over that weight. It was the rise, not of a season, but of a lifetime. I have been on the same water several times since, and have never found a single fair rising trout; but if it ever falls to my lot to fish that wonderful water again, about the time the May-fly or Spent Gnat is well on, I shall know what sort of casts to' use! Fine gut in such a terribly weedy water, and against such heavy trout, is quite hopeless. The only way to deal with heavy fish on water of this character, which is full of great patches of thick weed, is to use a big fly, on strong gut, and to give them when hooked next to no law. When a trout goes to a small patch of weeds he may often be either forced or else enticed out. A steady, but not too severe, down-stream strain on him will sometimes prove effectual, whilst at - rr ->mi%smaBmmm CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 189 other times, or after this first device has failed, a loose line and five or ten minutes' grace will occasionally fetch him out. But when a very heavy trout goes into a dense mass of weeds the angler's chance of getting him out is usually very slight. There is an instrument for cutting away weeds, but in my opinion it is not worth the trouble of carrying about; where the patch of weeds is a small one it is unnecessary and dangerous, and where the patch is a very large one, it is perfectly useless. In addition to the imitations of natural flies referred to as very generally used by the Dry Fly angler, there are a great number of purely " fancy" patterns, which seem to closely resemble nothing in Nature, but which, from some mysterious cause, trout sometimes prefer to the other artificials. There are various sorts of very gaudy, wingless Bumbles, which are always good in the case of grayling, and occasionally in the case of trout, on Dry Fly waters. Then all manner of abortions, ranging from the Dusty Miller to the peculiarly hateful Alexandra—both ought to be strictly prohibited—are made at times to do service for trout flies, being used sunk and down-stream. It must not be supposed, however, that I am laying down the severe rule 1 i l r I 190 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLt that all "fancy"flies are illegitimate. On the contrary, I often use myself, and rejoice in, two fancy flies, the Wickham and the Governor. The former is the most famous of all the " fancy" flies used by Dry Fly anglers, and it is in great request on the Test and Itchen. On the more fished portions of the Derbyshire Wye I have personally never found it serviceable, and indeed I doubt whether any " fancy" fly is needed in the case of that water, the Dun being there a hardy annual. But on very many waters the Wickham, when there is, as well as when there is not, natural fly out, is a capital lure. I imagine it to be taken by trout in mistake for a Dun, but this is mere conjecture. The Governor, which some think is taken in mistake for an Alder, is a capital little fly, in particular on the less fished and smaller Southern streams. "Fancy" flies should, I think, only be resorted to in Dry Fly fishing when there is no natural fly out, and the fish are suspicious of imitations, or when there is a quantity of natural fly out and the imitation is not sufficiently good to do any execution. The size of the artificial fly to be used is always a very important question, sometimes more important than the shade of the wings, CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 191 body, and hackles. No doubt as a general rule, where the water is low and clear, the smaller the fly the surer will the angler be of getting rises. But it cannot be too clearly understood that the smaller the size of hook used, the smaller the chance of the angler of landing his fish when it has once risen and been hooked. The hold of the very small hooks must always be comparatively slight, and moreover, when the hook is very small, it has to be attached to the finest of gut: to land a heavy and well-conditioned trout, especially in an awkward place, is under these circumstances an almost hopeless task. I think it will also be found that in the case of these very minute hooks, there is small chance of the trout hooking himself; it is necessary to strike with great precision. The hooks on which the feeble imitations of the " smuts " are dressed verge on the ridiculous. They are really scarcely worthy of a place in the Dry Fly angler's box. Personally, I always use as large a hook in Dry Fly fishing as the water will allow. Last Easter I tried for several days very small hooks—the smallest on which Duns are dressed—and though I rose many more trout than usual, I also lost many more. Few Dry Fly anglers now use the old- 1 192 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY fashioned fly attached to the gut. The eyed hook, either turned down or turned up—one is probably quite as good as the other—has come into almost universal use. It is -v^ry easily attached to the gut by Major Turle's knot, and it does not "crack" off nearly so much with a wind behind one's back, as the fly dressed on gut. Again, the eyed flies bought one season are serviceable for the next season, as they have about them no gut to get rotten. The eyed flies, dressed with split wings for floating, now-a-days really leave very little to be desired. There are dozens of firms which turn out most beautiful imitations of the Duns, Spinners, May-flies, March-browns, etc., and moreover turn them out at a remarkably reasonable figure. It is a nice accomplishment for the angler to be able to tie his own trout flies, but it requires incessant practice, and a considerable expenditure of time, for the amateur to keep up with the high standard of the professional. The general view amongst Dry Fly anglers seems to be that the game is scarcely worth the candle. In conclusion, a few short and clear injunctions may be given for the benefit of those beginners who are perplexed as to this depart- \L CONCERNING TROUT FLIES 193 ment of Dry Fly angling. Confine your list of everyday flies to as moderate dimensions as possible. Only use "fancy" patterns when imitations of Nature are of no avail. Avoid altogether such huge monstrosities as the Alexandra, because they are not used by any save the mere pot-hunter and creel-filler. Do not use smaller hooks than you are obliged to, and the very smallest on which the alleged imitations of the "smuts" and " curses " are dressed do not use at all. And place not too much faith in local patterns and prejudices, but prefer to believe that a well-dressed imitation of the Olive Dun will, if presented properly to a fish rising at Olive Duns, prove as good a fly on one river as on another—because it is not the fly, so much as the hand directing it, which kills the trout. CHAPTER IX THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE l(By J. E. Booth) Whatever may be said from the angler's point of view of any one of the Derbyshire trout streams, is more or less applicable to all the streams having their rise in, or flowingjthrough, the Peak district, and I propose therefore to treat the Wye as a typical Derbyshire water. The Wye may be said to possess, at least somewhere throughout its comparatively short but deviating course from Buxton to its junction with the Derwent at Kowsley—sixteen miles as the crow flies—all the varied characteristics of the Goit, the Derwent, and the Dove, with their respective tributaries. In its upper reaches, as far down as Miller's Dale, the Wye bears a striking resemblance to the Dove, where it glides from a bed of weeds into a deep mysterious pool, almost hidden from daylight between overhanging grey limestone rocks and cliffs, 194 THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 195 the foundations of some towering hill, and now again revealing itself to full view pursues its course over occasional and picturesque natural weirs of moss-covered fragments of rock, skirted on the one hand by wooded and precipitous hill-sides, on the other by grassy swards. Again, in Wye's lowest reaches, its character is similar to that of the Derwent—gravelly shallows, and deep, shady pools. Its reaches in the fresh and open meadows of Bakewell and of Rowsley have a charm peculiar to themselves, and unsurpassed, familiar to angler and tourist alike for their close associations with time-honoured Haddon and renowned Lathkill. These Derbyshire streams have from Charles Cotton's days been considered typical trouting waters, as far as fly-fishing is concerned, and of late, with few exceptions, any lure but the artificial fly is universally and rightly prohibited. Some southerners may mistrust the claim of the Wye, which is in part a limestone stream, to rank with chalk streams as a so-called " Dry Fly water." Yet it is certain that for at least twelve or fifteen years the Wye's reputation of possessing the essential characteristics of a genuine Dry Fly water throughout its Jl 196 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY course has been upheld by many good anglers. The question of what constitute the distinguishing features between Dry and Wet Fly streams is a different matter. Some such difference apparently, if not actually, exists, but where to draw the line may be a question often most, difficult to decide. It would not, for instance, be said of the Tweed or lochs of Scotland that they were Dry Fly waters, and yet our small Duns, when dried and floated on them, have sometimes proved successful, much to the astonishment of the local experts, who as a rule do not turn out when the water is-low and clear, believing sport under such conditions to be, if not impossible, at least indifferent. Almost everywhere indeed has the Dry Fly method of fishing now found its way. What then are the essential characteristics of a Dry Fly, as opposed to a Wet Fly, stream? Well, deep, sluggish, yet clear and weedy streams, with shallow backwaters and eddies at intervals along the banks, in which probably most of the fly is hatched, are chiefly suitable for the Dry Fly. Under such conditions the natural fly has more favourable opportunities of hatching perfectly, and remaining on the water When hatched, than upon a rapid and shallow THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 197 river, where the fly after hatching often takes immediately to the wing, on account of the turbulence of the water, before a fish has time to seize it. In such streams it must be less exertion for a fish to feed under water, on partly-developed larval flies, than on winged food at the surface. Again, these streams with muddy and weedy beds afford greater supplies and varieties of Ephemeridce, Phryganidce, Perlidce, and other water-bred insects, than do shallow and rocky beds. As the Wye, save in the matter of sluggishness, belongs to this class of stream, the Dry Fly there has proved most successful, and has surpassed the Wet Fly, as being a more suitable method throughout the season, as securing better baskets of fish and heavier specimens, and of covering water in which a Wet Fly could not be used. Nor does it mean the monotony which must necessarily accompany the Wet Fly method. But, whatever advantages there may be in the use of the Dry Fly, it is necessary, in order to obtain sport, especially in the spring months of the year, to have occasional recourse to the Wet Fly method, and even later on, as a rising fish cannot always be induced, even though up at natural flies on the surface of 198 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the water, to accept the dry artificial similarly offered to him, though he will often do so jf it be sunk a little. This is especially the case in a full water, when the fly (which should be dressed with a turn or two of tinsel round the body) must be cast close in under the opposite bank. Similarly in the May-fly season, though feeding off the fly in the sub-imago state just after being hatched, trout often cannot be induced to take the floating imitation; but they will frequently do so if a hackle fly be sunk, or even used on the surface, provided it be wet. Some people have an idea that the hackle fly cannot be used dry. As a matter of fact, a hackle floats better than a winged one, though it is not probably so easily discerned on the water. Whether an imitation of the May-fly, or any other species of Ephemeridce, when the hackle fly is^flbated dry, or even partially so, it presents a striking resemblance to the natural fly drawing itself out of the shuck in its metamorphosis from the nympha to the sub-imago state — at which time the natural insect is most eagerly sought after by fish. The inference to be gathered from this is, not that the Wet Fly method as far as it goes THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 199 is defective, nor that it has ceased to be practised with success, but that the Dry Fly method is —all circumstances considered—the more appropriate, and the more approved one, though, as already pointed out, one method at one time proves better than the other, and vice versd. Even a combination of the two systems was carried into effect by a friend of mine who, whilst admitting the superiority of a Dry Fly, was so reluctant to abandon the old wet three- fly system, that he dipped his tail-fly in paraffin oil, in order to make it float, and allowed the other two flies to sink or dangle on the surface of the water—thus retaining, by the use of the droppers, the old system ! At those times when the Wet Fly has to be resorted to, the Bumbles, the principal of which are the salmon, claret, and furnace, that have long been famous lures, both on the Wye and neighbouring streams, should not be forgotten. As almost every river has its own particular fly, or flies, so has the Wye its Olive Dun, which largely predominates in numbers over any other insect throughout the whole season, and forms iAie staple surface-food of the trout. This Olive Dun appears to be no other than the Blue Dun of Ronalds, though some consider it as quite a 200 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY distinct species. Whether this be so or not, is of more practical importance to the naturalist than to the angler, whose primary object is the imitation as nearly as possible of the fly as it presents itself for the time being on the water. The Olive Dun undergoes a variety of changes in size and shade throughout the season, all of which are sometimes actually to be seen in the course of a single day; and these seem dependent upon the time of the year, temperature, moisture, wind, and state of weather generally. In March, for instance, it is often found and comes on in large numbers as the Blue Dun, particularly if a cold north-westerly wind be blowing down-stream. In this month a Hare's-ear, with gold-ribbed body, is the pattern chiefly used, and is in fact a good one the season through. In April, and as the weather becomes milder, it gradually assumes a more olive shade, the imitation of which is usually dressed on No. 0 or 1 size of hook, with olive- coloured silk body, with or without a gold rib. It is then known as the " cold day Olive," and is certainly rightly named, for the largest hatches are to be seen on cold, wet, windy days, even when there are occasional snow showers. Warmer weather brings with it an infinite [To face Plate IV^ AS TIED BY GEORGE HOLLAND OF WINCHESTER 1. Iron Blue Dun. Body—Condor qniU dyed purple. Hackle—Honey dun cock, dark. Whisk—Honey dun cock, dark. Wings—Coot dyed. 2. Beown May-fly Champion. Body—Straw. Wings—Dyed mallard. Ribbing—Gold cord and crimson silk Whisk—Mallard. Hackle—Partridge. 3. Red Spinneb. Body—Crimson quill dyed. Bibbing—Gold wire. Whisk—Red cock. Hackle—Bed cock. Wings—Starling. 4. Olive Quill Pale. Body—Dyed condor's quill. Hackle—Pale olive. Whisk—Pale olive. Wings—Pale starling. 5. Olive Quill Medium. Body—Peacock's eye dyed. .Hackle—Medium olive. Whisk—Medium olive. Wings—Starling medium. 6. Olive Dun. Body—Olive silk. Hackle—Medium celine. Wings—Darkish starling. Whvik—Olive. Bibbing—Gold wire. 7. May-fly. Body—Straw. Wings—Mallard. Bibbing—Peacock and gold wire. Hackle.—Partridge. Whisk—Mallard. 8. Wickham. Body—Gold plate. ^tMgrjj^Starling. Whisk—Red cock. Bibbing—Gold wire. Hackle—Red cock. 9. Alder. Body—Gut dyed mulberry- Hackle-—Red black. Wings—Game hen. 10. Olive Quill Dark. Body—Peacock's eye dyed. Hackle—Olive. Whisk—Olive Wings—Dark starling. 11. Maech-beown. Body—Hare's ear and yellow. Wings—Partridge's wing quill. feather. Whisk—Partridge. Bibbing—Gold cord. Hackle—Partridge. 12. Beown Sedge. Body—Hare's ear. Bibbing—Gold cord. Hackle-—Red cock. Wings—Landrail. Yellow Dun. Body—Yellow silk, pale. Hackle—Ginger cock. Whisk—Ginger cock. Wings—Starling. rii f i \ vv r Wn$\\\ %4 1 THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 201 variety of lighter shades, as well as of sizes, the imitations being dressed with stained olive quill bodies, with dun and brown hackles, on sizes from Nos. 000 to 1, and occasionally even larger, which is found none too big at times, when an exceptionally large female comes on, as it sometimes does, in great quantities, on a showery afternoon, with intermittent gleams of sunshine; this is especially the case when it has been preceded in the morning by a hatch of the small dark male fly, which is only occasionally taken, and then rarely by any save the small fish. So characteristic of the Wye is the Olive Dun, that dressed on sizes Nos. 00 and 1 and of two shades light and dark, one angler ought, taking the season through, to successfully hold his own with it against another in possession of unlimited choice of patterns. But whatever the standard fly may be for the time being, on the Wye, or on any other water for that matter, every angler has his pet pattern by which he swears, and often justly enough too. It is now no longer deemed necessary, even on Dry Fly streams, to cater for the fastidious tastes of trout by presenting fly after fly of every conceivable shade and size, 202 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY every one of which is doomed to rejection. Such a process, when resorted to, often means a mere waste of time and patience, and an ultimate^ return to the original pattern, to which, to one's agreeable surprise, the fish falls a victim. The trout's appetite often depends on the nicety of the cast, the absence of the least sensation of a drag, and a well " cocked " and a perfectly dry fly. To really satisfy himself as to the truth of these assertions, the angler has only to make an autopsy of one of his fish to see the immense variety of flies it must have taken in the short time previous to its capture. This will convince him how unnecessary are so many changes of fly. When change becomes necessary, the purpose may most likely be served, not by adopting another and distinct pattern, but rather by selecting a fresh fly of the same pattern. Its previous persistent rejection may not seldom be attributed to the fact that it was not completely dry, which encouraged the suction of the water the moment the fly fell upon the stream. This would result in the hackle being submerged, and consequently in an unnatural appearance being imparted to the fly quite unlike the delicate lit THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 203 way in which the naturaL insect alights and sits upon the water. It indeed resolves itself, often enough, into a question of, not so much what the trout wants, as what the fisherman says he must take. Given two equally capable experts with dissimilar patterns, the result might well be the same provided the patterns were of equal size and of subdued colours. Size is of more importance than colour, and if the fisherman can only suppress his superfluous energy in striking, the smaller the size the better the chance of rising trout, notwithstanding the maxim of a well- known Derbyshire hand, " the larger the fly the bigger the fish." The angler should not, of course, bind himself to one particular pattern, which would be an unnecessary handicap. Desirous moreover, as he may be, of limiting the selection of patterns, and of thus being able to concentrate his attention on the casting, striking, and playing of the fish, the cutting down of the number of patterns to two or three kinds might tend to divest the sport of some of its incidental charm. It might, too, tend to reduce the "glorious uncertainty," which has hitherto been regarded as inseparable from Ik_ 204 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY fishing, as from various other sports. There are times when it is not always possible to coax a trout into the angler's way of thinking, cast as nicely as one may, for the fly for the time being hatched and on the water, and that only, will the fish take. An instance of this not unfre- quently occurs on cold days of spring and early summer, when, though large quantities of Olives are on the water and but few rising fish taking them, suddenly, from some apparently unaccountable reason, trout are to be seen eagerly rising at what seem to be the same small dark Olives still coming down thickly. On closer inspection they are found to be taking the little Iron- blue Duns, which, here and there mixed with the Olives, are at a distance not unlike them. These hatches occur at intervals, and last for only a short time. In about a quarter-of-an-hour not a fish can be found stirring, even though the Olives continue as before to sail along. Presently, say after an interval of another quarter-of-an-hour, .the Iron-blue comes on again and is again eagerly sought after by the fish. These spasmodic hatchings are much more noticeable in regard to this than to other members of the Ephemeridce family. Other kinds of flies might be exemplified as claiming more or less attention during the THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 205 spring months, such as the Eed Spinner, or imago of the Olive, the Jenny Spinner or imago of the Iron-blue; but these are of most importance on summer evenings. Others again, like the Sand-fly, Yellow Dun, Little May Dun, Turkey Brown, Yellow Sally, and Black Gnat, though considered early flies, are often more numerous and used with greater success later in the year, and after the May-fly season. The May-fly is generally at its height in the second week in June (third week in the upper waters in Miller's Dale). It occupies the first three weeks of the month, but is not freely taken on first emerging from the shuck. During the first day or two the fish are to be seen pursuing the flies for several feet down-stream, as if in doubt whether to take them or not. These preliminary hatches appear to consist chiefly of the smaller and darker male flies, or bastards as they are termed. They are followed by an increased hatch of the female, for which the fish show a decided preference. The hatches are by no means uniform with regard to locality, as in some places scarcely an odd specimen is to be seen, whilst" in others, especially on the mill- dams, where the water is sluggish, rather shallow, and weedy, there are large quantities of the THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY insects. Even when well "up," fish during these first few days, for some unaccountable reason, often totally refuse the May-fly, and are to be seen taking small light Duns or Black Gnats, with which the water at this season is covered. This of course necessitates a change of fly to Dun or Black Gnat. Experience indeed suggests that it is the better plan to start and fish steadily throughout with a small Dun or Gnat mounted on a fine cast, till one comes across a fish actually taking May-fly only, and then to change to the artificial May-fly. It is a good plan to have a Mayfly cast wound round the hat, and to well soak and stretch the cast before coming out. To change casts in this way takes up very little time, and it is in fact really one's only immediate resource, as a May-fly if attached to a fine Dun cast is too much tax upon the gut, which will not stand the wear and tear of drying for very long without becoming weak. On the whole, fishing with the May-fly, on at any rate the Wye, is to my mind somewhat disappointing and unsatisfactory. When the trout are rising at the fly there is little worth railing sport—-unless the fish run large-—inasmuch as Very little skill is required for their capture* THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 207 To fish therefore with a small fly and fine tackle/ even in the May-fly season, with the occasional change suggested, will give better sport,, heavier baskets, and better conditioned fish; besides which it is infinitely more creditable than fishing throughout with a stout cast and large May-fly. Decidedly the best pattern of May-fly, and the pattern most used on the Wye, is the hackle one, which is dressed with the feathers from the Canadian summer duck, with a straw body. The best of the winged patterns is that with stained mallard wing. It should be dressed small, and should float well " cocked," to be of any use. The end of the season—that is, about the third or fourth week in June—is considered by many to be the best for the use of the May-fly. If the weather remain unchanged, the rise of May-fly takes place about the same time each day, varying from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m., according to circumstances, with a renewed rise about sunset. The May-fly over, the following week or two are generally considered unproductive, as are the few weeks preceding its appearance, when the fish are supposed to be busy feeding off" the 208 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY npnphce previous to the hatch. After the Mayfly the trout are too gorged for a time to rise to any extent. The evening is the only time at this season to look forward to, and the rise does not then commence till after eight o'clock, though lasting on favourable evenings till ten o'clock, when it becomes too dark to see where to cast. This rise consists generally of light Duns and Spinners. If the weather should happen to be hot and sultry, towards nine o'clock in the evening the water is often covered with miscellaneous insects, and it becomes difficult to detect the particular fly being taken, though every fish in the river seems to be rising franticly at some invisible insect. The weather being hot, with dry, easterly puffy winds, and with evenings close and sultry, the "curse" may continue for weeks, during which time every conceivable means used to tempt the fish, either with its imitation or any other pattern, seems to be a failure. This "curse" is very minute, measuring only about one-twelfth of an inch across the wings when stretched out. It has a short, dumpy body, white all over, except for a chocolate-coloured band round one part of it, and it has the appearance of a tiny moth both in wings and ' THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 209 body. The first time I became acquainted with it was one evening immediately after the Mayfly was over. Suddenly a furious rise commenced all over the stream, and ceasing to get any result from patterns of Spinners I had been using with success up till then, my curiosity prompted me to strike a match and examine a quiet backwater, which I found literally peppered with these midges. On closer examination, I found my coat and hat also covered with them. Even if there had been light enough to see, an artificial, however close an imitation, would have had no real chance amongst such vast quantities of naturals. Fishing persistently every evening till this "curse" disappeared—which happened only when a spell of wet weather came on—I took a fish occasionally with a pale Watery Dun, and do not remember any one else doing much better. In fact, its appearance was an indication that the fishing, so far as killing trout was concerned, had come to a close for the day, and it was marked by most of the fishermen returning home. After seeing the last of this annoying and tantalizing insect, we jiome to the best of the evening fishing, which is in July and August. Then the Red Spinner above all others is the p 210 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY fly to put on, provided the fish are taking any kind of Ephemeridce at all—for if there are no Ephemeridce, in the way of Duns and Spinners, coming down, and it be the hot and sultry evening as above described, innumerable and indescribable "smuts" make their appearance, at which only the grayling and small trout are as a rule to be seen rising. In such cases I have found a Black Gnat with the wings clipped off, or better still the Little Chap dressed with peacock harl, on size No. 000, the most effective. Sometimes a Watery Dun is good, especially when the grayling are rising at !? smuts"; and this should also be dressed very small. Perhaps for midday fishing on the Wye, August and September are, as a rule, the best months, the fish being in good condition till the end of September. The best fish, in this latter month, are to be found under the banks, and there is more or less of a rise throughout the day. If the weather be warm, a short evening rise may be looked for. On fine September mornings, when the water is to be seen gliding down with an oil-like appearance, and as though it had a thin film upon its surface, there is THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 211 generally a morning rise of Duns from nine to eleven, just as the sun is taking effect and breaking through the mist. There is no fly better than the light Olive for September fishing, unless the water be low and clear, when I have a fancy for the September Whirling Dun dressed very small. With settled weather, and low and clear water, a preponderance of grayling will be found rising in September. In a full and discoloured water the grayling are not often found rising, which may be attributed to the fact that they have to rise to the fly from a depth of 18 inches or more; and that they prefer flies different from those taken by trout, which prefer the families of Ephemeridce, Perlidce, or / Phryganidce. Fishing during the few days preceding a change for rain is generally hopeless. The river presents a dead and ditch-like appearance, without a vestige of fly, and consequently not a rise is to be seen anywhere. When rain at last comes, the preliminary showers sometimes bring large hatches of small dark Olives, at which the fish only occasionally rise. They have a habit of poking their noses out of the water at the fly, in a lazy kind of way, without taking it. 212 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY When the rain has properly set in, a good hatch of larger female Olives may be expected, and it is then, before the fresh water gets into and discolours the stream, that the best baskets are procured. No rule can be laid down as to what will turn out a good day, and therefore the opportunity of a day's fishing should never be lost. What one may from appearances venture to predict will turn out an unlikely day, often proves the opposite, for nothing is more certain in Dry Fly fishing than the unexpected. Who is there that has not at some time or other made his best baer o when he least expected sport ? On a day during which no fly is hatched, fishing, so far as Dry Fly is concerned, is regarded as useless, and as a matter of fact good bags are rarely made except during a hatch of fly of the Ephemeridce family. It is my opinion that for the successful production of such a hatch of Ephemeridce certain atmospheric conditions are of vital importance. These conditions are the presence of atmospheric moisture and the relative difference in temperature of atmosphere and water, for it is obvious that the temperature of the water must be lower than that of the atmosphere. THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 213 This can be brought about by evaporation, and it is a matter of daily experience that when water evaporates the vapour carries away heat from the water, and that this in turn produces cold. This evaporation is the result of the sun, or wind, or both, and except under these conditions of temperature and moisture a hatch of Ephemeridce is, I think, rarely seen. A hatch of Ephemeridce is unusual with a prevailing dry east wind, and when it does happen is a poor one, the flies being small, frail-looking specimens. Some of the best hatches of Ephemeridce occur on cold, wet days, with the wind in the west or north-west. Again, after a hot summer day, during which there has been little or no fly, just as the sun is setting, Duns often begin to come out in large numbers. This only occurs when the atmospheric moisture becomes condensed, owing to the rapid cooling of the ground by radiation after sunset, and consequent cooling of the air near the ground to below the temperature at which it begins to deposit moisture. When the atmosphere gets cooled to such an extent that a heavy mist comes on, the Dun immediately disappears. No such appearance of Dun is observed on the hot, sultry evening, with wind in the east, when I 214 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY th$re is little or no dew falling: on such evenings the terrible " curses " make their appearance. Whatever the day may be, either good, bad, or indifferent, a trout, if rising nowhere else, may not unusually be found in some eddy or backwater, or else at the corner of some tree- root ; and even if he should not be rising, he may be tempted into taking a nicely-cocked Dry Fly. Particularly when the water is higher than usual, these side eddies or backwaters afford some of the most likely casts. They ought to be carefully surveyed before casting, for if this preliminary precaution be not taken, the angler may find that his fish immediately upon being hooked rushes out of the tiny, calm backwater into the strong and deep current, at the foot of which is very likely the submerged root of some huge willow-tree with overhanging branches. Now, unless provision has been made in the shape of a foot or two of loose line at the reel, in case the trout should leap out of the water when in the current, a breakage almost invariably takes place. When a fish is hooked in these awkward places, the least of two evils will be to hold on and check the rush at the onset, by keeping the rod-point well up, with a firm yet easy and THE DRY FLY IN DERBYSHIRE 316 accommodating grasp: should the trout manage to rush some distance below the tree-root, round which it is impossible for the angler to get, in order to land him, he may possibly be induced to come up-stream by dipping the rod-point a few inches in the water and pulling gently. For negotiating such places as these, a short, stiff rod is the best, and as the Wye at its widest is comparatively narrow, a rod of 10 J feet suffices to throw a line across almost any part of it. A rod of even a foot shorter is not too short for the upper reaches in Miller's Dale and Ashwood Dale, where the angler has many more difficulties to contend with, in the way of wooded banks and rugged, rocky beds. Though the trout of the upper lengths averages a greater weight than that of the lower lengths, he is not nearly so game a fish. This may be accounted for by the fact that he has not the scope, owing to the presence of a prolific growth of weed in the bed of the stream, which tends to impede his progress. Grayling decrease in numbers, but increase in size, the higher we go up-stream. Miller's Dale, from my own records, produces about one grayling for every twelve trout. Still higher up, in Ashwood Dale, one might fish the 216 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY season through, and not take a single one. Of late years grayling have become at least as numerous in the lower Wye as trout, though their average weight is not more than 6 or 7 ozs^ This increase in numbers may be due to the fact that during their open season they rise poorly to the fly, and are rarely fished for; so that the stock never gets diminished, though they rise freely and may easily be taken in spring, when they are black and out of condition. Throughout the Wye, in addition to the variety known as the old Derbyshire trout, there are many other varieties of salmo fario, or brown trout, including the Lathkill, Loch- leven, and others, the result no doubt of restocking at various times. CHAPTER X THE ANGLING INN ^» Not the least attractive part of the life of an angler—be he a pursuer of salmon, grayling, or trout; a stickler for the old style of sunk flies, and several of them, or a disciple of the method of which this book treats—is the pleasant evening spent among his fellows in the old angling inn. It has not fallen to my lot to visit Bakewell since the rule of that rare old sporting landlord Mr. William Greaves came to an end, two years since or thereabouts; so I cannot say any word concerning the Rutland Arms of to-day as a fisherman's resort. But, in times not long past away, how excellent a thing it always was to shake off the " dust and drought" of London life, and repair to the Rutland for a few weeks' trouting in the Wye, no matter how unfavourable the "reports"1 of rivers in various daily 1 Why will these same mysterious " reports," when favourable, always be telling us that Mr. So-and-So had a 217 pr 218 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY and weekly organs that have an angling corner; and how sad to have to leave that hospitable porch after a holiday, the one demerit of which lay in its brevity I The Rutland was for very- many years one of those sound old hostelries that were formerly, in the days of coaches, and even later, when the railways were as yet few and far between, a feature of English rural life. It had none of your billiard-rooms and modern contrivances and conveniences, whilst the menu was always of the simplest character. Mighty joints and a variety of sweets, amongst which the famous Bakewell pudding had a place of honour, were what one looked for most nights, and what one got even when only two or three sat down at the board. Yet the fare, if simple, was sound, and you were never stinted. Bake- well is not always exactly a warm and sheltered place, and on an April, May, or September evening, a bright fire in the smoking-room, to which we hastened after dinner, was seldom wanting, save in the three summer months; nice basket of two and a half or five brace, taken in the Rowsley Meadows with the Carnation Bumble, or the Claret Sherry Spinner, or the great August Greentail as his dropper % Why not occasionally, if editors absolutely persist in lists of "taking" flies, write down the names of a common Dun or simple Spinner % It would serve. THE ANGLING INN 219 indeed, there are probably few regular Rutland frequenters who cannot recollect a fire at some time or other even on June or July evenings. What mighty fires, too, blazed in the hearths there in winter-time when a few enthusiasts came down to Bakewell for grayling fishing! A stranger to the place and its fine old traditions might have supposed that coal was a very cheap commodity in Derbyshire, judging by the way in which the fires in the coffee-, smoking-rooms, and not a few of the bedrooms of the Rutland Arms, were piled up when night began to close in. The landlord was not an angler himself, and had something of a contempt for fly fishing in particular, holding that a big worm was the proper bait for a fastidious trout; but he loved the race, and catered for it to the best of his abilities. To the anglers were allotted, the best rooms, and for them the fatted calf was killed. Of all the inns which I have visited, and their name is, legion, not pne has left such pleasant memories as the Rutland. It was not lovely to outward view, like the far-famed. Peacock at Rowsley, nor finely situated like several of the old-fashioned West-country inns, in which I have spent many a convivial angling evening;, but its I 220 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY hospitality knew no bounds. To not a few of us the Rutland was simply a second home. The late Mr. Louis Jennings, author of (amongst other works) a volume that tells us of his tramps amongst the Derbyshire hills and dales, found, his way one evening to the Rutland. He was not an angler or sportsman, so that some rather severe remarks which he thought fit to make on the alleged paucity of Wye trout scarcely deserve attention. An amusing companion, however, and a clever writer, the late Member for Stockport certainly was, and a retort of his to an inquisitive commercial traveller who persisted in trying to gather some facts about his vocation, is one that should live. It was in the coffee-room of the Rutland that the two met, and the traveller, like a ravenous grayling out of condition, was hard to set down. After a time, he asked the M.P. outright what he travelled in. Mr. Louis Jennings turned to the stranger, and replied—"Sir, I travel in ideas!" Later in the evening, and when the commercial one had retired, the wanderer sat gazing in a pensive mood at the flickering fire, and recalled the past days and ways of his eventful life. In a somewhat similar frame of mind, I sat but now before THE ANGLING INN 221 the glowing embers till far into the night, and mused over some of the well-remembered summer and winter evenings at the Rutland, that followed an eight or ten-hour angling day in the Wye meadows. The table-talk at an angling inn like the Rutland is naturally full of trout, and folk who know nothing and care less for piscatorial matters, and who have what they regard as more serious objects in view, may find themselves rather out of the general conversation that goes on from the moment of sitting down to that of getting up. Recently, an acquaintance of the writer's—-who is rather well-contented with his knowledge of sport—asked, "What book are you writing now ?" and upon hearing the reply, "Oh, a book on Dry Fly Fishing," he exclaimed innocently, "But surely that must be a dreadfully dry subject 1" The tourists, American and English, who found themselves sandwiched at the Rutland Arms table between ardent Dry Fly fishermen, may sometimes have formed a like impression. Anglers, are notoriously addicted to talking "shop," and Dry Fly talk heard in the dining- and smoking-rooms of the Rutland must have sounded a very jargon to the non-angler. Is it not the same with II 222 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY the table-talk of the golfer, of the photographer, and of many other folks with " a hobby" ? "Was anything doing at the snaggy pooH" asks Splitcane; "I have not been near it all day." " Nothing much," is Greenhart's reply: " but there was a good one up in the second little backwater at the Horseshoe Bend. I managed to set him down all right after a few casts.' They are ' artists' in that second backwater." " Ah," chimes in Greenhart junior, " I know that trout. He often feeds right under the hollow bank where a big thistle hangs over. There's a fearful * drag' there. The only way is to lie flat down, and dib." "Yes," flings in Splitcane, who is a detaiHst among detailists, " but, do you know, there's a better fish still about twenty yards further down-stream, and on the opposite side. He feeds in a tiny eddy just where two blades of grass are washed backwards and forwards by the stream." "Know him! I should think I do," is the swift response; " why, I spent hours and hours over that trout last spring; but the fly always gets drowned in the eddy. That fish is, from the way he rises, either very big or very small—you can never get a view of him." This is the kind of talk, which nobody can understand who has ii THE DRY FLY ANGLER'S KNOTS. 1. Knot for attaching cast to line. 2. Knot for tying strands of gut together. 3. Major Turles* Knot for attaching the cast to the eyed hook, 4. Same knot after the loop has been made and the fly passed through it. It then only remains to draw the loop up tight and cut off the end of the gut close up to the head of the fly. There are other knots besides Major TurUs*, but none more simph or effective. THE ANGLING INN 223 not had an attack of the fishing fever. Jones and Smith, who are intent on cycling, or walking, or viewing all the old churches of the district, stare incredulously at the mention of these minute details. " Why," think they, " there are five or six miles of fishing, and there must be hundreds of backwaters and bends, and tens of thousands of thistles and blades of grass by the river! How can one of these impostors possibly know the particular thistle, or bit of grass, the other is referring to 'I The thing's impossible, and the talk mere drivel." Thus Jones and Smith, the uninitiated, and the rather suspicious. But Splitcane and his friends are none the less perfectly right. They rarely make mistakes in describing the exact position of a particular trout in a five-mile stretch of water. It is in presenting the fly to the trout, in striking over-hard, or in not striking at all, in showing too much gut, or in trying to land their prize too soon, that they fall into errors. That he who never makes a mistake, makes nothing, is as true of Dry Fly fishing as of anything else. Splitcane and the Greenharts may seem inflictions to the man who hates fishing, who never can understand how people have the 224 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY patience to sit watching a float from a punt all day—for that is his idea of what the angler does—and is ever ready with that saying about a worm at one end and a fool at the other. But they, are the best of company to each other and to their circle at the angling inn. On the other hand, there is in the Dry Fly world a certain sprinkling of objectionable anglers in evidence from time to time by the stream, at the dinner-table, and in the smoking-room with its old oak chairs and its sanded floor. The least tolerable type of all is the man who comes down from town, when nobody has done anything worth speaking of for several days past, and who, after hearing gloomy accounts of the river and the fish from every one, looks very knowing indeed, and says,, " I shall catch 'em to-morrow." Occasionally it may happen that the man is a fairly skilful angler, and that on the morrow he goes forth boastfully, and by hook or by crook does manage to bring back a decent bag. Now, when this takes place, he is so bumptious and boastful, so free with his advice and patronizing ways, that the rest of the company perceptibly shrink away from him. Unfortunately, there is often an absolute tyro present, who freely offers himself as THE ANGLING INN 225 a peg for the braggart to hang his tall tales of the day's sport upon. It is likely, too, that this objectionable angler, being very keen to make the best bag of the day, and as much as possible humiliate his fellow-anglers, is deliberately late for the evening meal. When he comes in after the first or second course has been disposed of, somebody will incautiously inquire, "Well, what sport ?" and then there is a grand chance for boasting. If the man has made a really nice bag of trout, and has discovered by inquiries made before he entered the room that nobody else has done anything, he will begin by belittling his achievement. "Oh, a bad day; only three brace!" Then, of course, the fact will come out that no one else has killed a decent fish. That tyro, who has been so much of a nuisance all day by the riverside, by coming up to everybody, and iterating the same inquiry, "What fly are they taking?" maybe relied on to let the cat out of the bag. It is all very fine for the other anglers present to pretend that they are quite unconscious of what is going on, and even to start a non-angling topic of conversation. They are really raging beneath their assumed calmness of demeanour, and when the maid brings in the trout on a Q ■^ssJfl 226 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY large dish it will be quite impossible for them to avert their eyes and stop their ears. Among the diners there will not uncommonly be—especially during the holiday season—a tourist who has not handled a rod for five-and-twenty years, and he, failing the tyro, will admirably serve the objectionable angler's purpose. He will begin by asking, " What sport to-day* Sir ?" and, hearing so many brace, will declare, "Well, you ought to congratulate yourself, Sir; these gentlemen tell me they have done nothing the entire day?*^ The objectionable angler's fish meet you at every turn. They have been brought into the dining- room and thrust under your nose for inspection,_ and it is not improbable that they will reappear later on in the smoking-room, or they may be left in the large dish on the hall-table, so that each angler as he lights his candle to go to bed will be bound to look at them once more. Of course, the " I shall catchjem " type of angler does not, as a rule, "catch 'em"; in which case, he will come back vowing that all day he has had the most accursed ill-luck that ever a man had in his life, and that he has hooked and lost more fish than he believed existed in the river. One has known him declare that he got a brace and a half which he gave away to some sick THE ANGLING INN 227 villager, or to a workman, or occasionally he will say they were in poor condition, and were therefore returned to the water. These excuses are usually obvious enough to the slenderest intellect. Even the tyro and the man who angled twenty-five years ago are not to be " stuffed-up " with too much of this kind of talk. Another aggravating man, very well known indeed in the angling - world, is he who says, " Oh, the Dry Fly is all nonsense I I shall pull 'em out to-morrow all right, with an Alexandra dressed with a bit of jungle cock feather; they can't resist it." You represent to him that the water is as still as a pond, as clear as gin; that the trout are suspicious of even the most perfect imitation of the Dun or May-fly on the water; and that, consequently, they will not rise at a great glaring Alexandra composed of brilliant peacock and jungle cock feathers. He smiles, and says he never knew the jungle cock fail. Beginning to grow exasperated, you tell him that the Alexandra was tried only yesterday by some one, and that the fish were simply scared by it. " Ah then," he will tell you, " the fly could not have been properly dressed; it hadn't the right amount of jungle cock feather." The Alexandra angler is not to be denied. 228 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY These are the bores of the angling world, and there are some others besides; together with a few faddists and eccentrics. We have met, for instance, the angler who says he always dries his fly in his pocket-handkerchief, the angler who declares that it is all nonsense about various aquatic insects coming up from the bed of the stream to the surface, and there bursting through their shuck. "Have you ever seen the flies coming up?" he asks, and when you tell him that entomologists say there is no doubt about it, he scoffs out that those kind of people will say anything. He is a harmless enough fellow very likely, this last one, but with a passion for contrariety. The handkerchief man is an intensely theoretical person, and so is the angler who, whatever topic is started, is certain to bring it round to the advisability of allowing the artificial minnow in streams where there are a certain number of big cannibal tfout that never take the fly, natural or artificial. Both these types are perfectly harmless, and if you can only coax them for a little while off their pet theories, often pleasant enough companions. Grievous to relate, however, there are to be found from time to time in most angling inns, and by most waters, pot-hunters of the basest and most Ii THE ANGLING INN brazen type, to whom all's fish that comes to the hook. The man who kills undersized trout is worse than the man who uses worms and other baits where only artificial fly is allowed. Every good angler will endeavour to carry the war into his camp on aU convenient occasions. He must be relentlessly gaffed. Truth compels one to admit that the pure pot-hunter and the last-mentioned angler do exist, and come every now and then to the surface, though happily they form but a very small contingent in the great army of anglers. They lord it, as already pointed out, with great difficulty over the angling assemblage at the dinner-table of the inn; and they do not lord it long. Fly fishing, whether wet or dry, is a sport in which there is but scant room for such folk. I spoke but now of the enthusiasts who when the trouting is all over turn their thoughts to fly fishing for grayling. In several South- country1 streams grayling run very heavy, and sometimes take the Dry Fly properly in summer, as well as on crisp, bright winter days. Grayling fishing is so good some winter seasons that there are anglers who are very well content to make Winchester, or a more sleepy little southern country town or village, their head- VL 230 THE BOOK OF THE DRY FLY quarters for months at a stretch. Dove, too, and Manifold (where there are some particularly good fish) tempt enthusiasts to the Izaak Walton even towards mid-winter, despite the strong and icy winds that tear down the lower end of the Dale. The Derbyshire Wye contains many grayling, though they are smaller and of an inferior kind to those of Dove. But my own experience of grayling angling there in wintertime is, that a creel or bag is usually a vaki encumbrance. And yet a week's fishing on that river, however few the rises, is scarcely deemed by old Wye hands to be a hardship. In winter the fly fisherman takes it very easily. There is no need to order breakfast for unholy hours in the morning, even less to enter into a friendly competition, such as does occasionally take place at other seasons, to be first on the water. The angler, unless he belongs to that uncomfortable class of people who cannot sleep a wink after daybreak, and who are always up at cock-crow, winter and summer alike, will as he retires to bed give directions to be roused at, say, half-past eight o'clock. Even when roused, it is possible he will recollect that after all it is not May-fly season, and so in agreeable drowsiness turn over for another ten minutes' THE ANGLING INN 231 doze. Then after breakfast, how leisurely he begins his preparations for turning out for a few hours' fishing. In the height of the trouting season he grudges the time which the careful filling of the briar pipe demands; tears open his letters, and digests their contents as ill perhaps as he does his breakfast; scorns the newspapers, and frets if his boots are not ready in the hall when the anglers foregather before going out and after coming in. But here is the same man in winter even answering the more pressing of his letters before he shoulders his rod, asking for the London papers, and finally discussing the advisability of turning out for an hour or two. It is hard to recognize in this apparently arm-chair style of angler the enthusiast who on occasions has been known to rouse. the household in summer-time as he creaks down-stairs shortly after daybreak, and goes forth breakfastless through the silent town, to see whether after all the fly may not come on before nine or ten o'clock and the fish rise at it. The fact is, though he has come ostensibly to angle for grayling, he in his heart knows this midwinter fly fishing to be, nine days out of ten, little more than a pleasant pretence. Nevertheless, once out, the angler is not going 232 THE BOOK OF TMM DRY FLY to be frightened indoors again till the afternoon has begun to advance, though the wind be like a knife, and the day dark and depressing. There is a sort of attractive melancholy about the cold, bare stream undimpled by a single rising fish for hours together. Winter has made sad havoc of the favourite spots where the angler could linger for hours in the summer months eagerly prying Under the thickly vegetated banks for trout on the feed. So complete is the wreckage, that there is now not one secluded nook by the whole stream-side. The little island where it was so good to secrete oneself on days when there were many rods out, or swarms ofnoisy trippers buzzing around, was only a few months since a bed of great dock-leaves, sedges, and willow-herbs. Even when standing erect there one could only be detected by the top of one's rod waved backwards and forwards in a desperate attempt to get to an impossible trout which always rose right under an old stump covered with nettles on the opposite bank. Now, with a shocked feeling, one observes that the island is bare; that there is not enough cover on it to hide a water-vole. Every backwater^ every eddy, beautifully hidden in summer by flowering things, and therefore so full of mystery and THE ANGLING INN 233 interest, so full of possibilities in the way of big fish, is now cruelly exposed. Yet one must revisit all the well-known spots, as though trout memories rather than grayling fishing formed the sole business on hand. In some of the backwaters there are still a few trout hanging about, preparatory to coming on the shallows to spawn. By four o'clock at the latest it is time to turn in. Then follows a rather tedious wait till dinner-time. But, the evening meal over, the spirits of the anglers once more rise high. Prepare then for a long evening beguiled with many yarns and experiences of the bags, not of that day, but of the past trouting season. Thus, though not a grayling has been touched all day, there should still be sport when the Dry Fly anglers close in round the smoking-room fire, to re-tell the ever fascinating tale of their many victories and their many defeats in the not uneven combat between the man and the trout. m INDEX Alder Fly, 176 — for Tailing Trout, 177 Alexandra Fly theorists, 227 when trout take the, 6 Ambidextrous anglers, 61 Andrews, W. T., at Crickmere, 80 — concerning paraffin, 138 — on large Sedge,. 93 Anglers, objectionable, 224 Anglers' talk, 224 Angling eccentrics, 228 — evening, the, 233 — inn, attractions ofthe, 217 — tackle, advice concerning, 26 importance attached to, 25 Animal Intelligence (G. T. Romanes), 79 Armitstead's Anglers' Paradise, 127 Artificially-reared trout, 81 Ashwood Dale, 215 Bablock, trout at, 109 Backwater fishing, rods for, 118 Backwaters, mode of fishing, 116 — of Wye, 108 — on Dove, 125 — that are unfishable, 57 — trout in, 111,214 Barle trout, during snowstorm, 59 Berners, Dame Juliana, 145 Best's, Thomas, Art of Angling, 165 minute directions as to flies, 167 Big Fly method, is it legitimate? 162 where successful, 161 Black Gnat, 210 Boerhaave's account of Swammerdam, 179 Booth, Mr., on May-fly fishing on Wye, 185 Bores and faddists, angling, 10 Bradford, incident on, 107 Bright, Mr. John, on anglers' differences, 121 Bulging Trout, 86 flies taken by, 88, 89 Butt, giving a fish the, 134 Cannibalism in trout, 80 Cast, advantage of tapering, 60 Casting, by the book, 28 Claret Bumble, 55 " Cocked," when fly should be, 122 Colne, at Fairford, 109 Compleat Angler, "Viator and Piscator" of, 11 Coquet, a thorough Wet Fly, 9 " Curses " on Wye (Derbyshire), 206 Dam at Bakewell, 116 Dearth of fly, 82, 84 uncertain cause of, 83 Dibbing, after dusk, instance of, 160 — confused by some with poaching, 143 — fly must be dry in, 137 — for roaming trout, 137 — objection taken to, 144 — with Dry Fly, 130 — with May-fly, 136 Differences between Dry and : Wet Fly, 37 Difficulties of Dry Fly fishing, 30 Diptera, 99 236 INDEX Dorothy Bridge, incident near, 46 Dove, Dry Fly on, 6 — gentle flow of, 6 — use of natural fly on, 11 — Wet Fly on, 5 Down-stream fishing, when usual, 33 Drag, as to avoidance of, 57 — described, 51, 56 — fatal even after dark, 152 — in backwater fishing, 114 " Drifting the fly," 35 Dry Fly angler, an enthusiastic, 149 at work, 36 fishing, end and aim of, 24 — —increasing in favour, 1 Dry Fly fishing, when hard work, 50 times for, 20, 21 why taken, 40 Dun (river), fishing late in season on, 21, — the river, 85 Duns, late hatch of, 149 Eccentric anglers, 3 Educated trout, effect of " drag " on, 53 Ephemeridce, used in Dry Fly fishing, 37 Evening fishing, fascination of, 124, 147, 164 on a Herts stream, 17 on Miinram, 162 season for, 147 short line, desirable in, 160 use of large fly in, 160 rise often disappointing, 163 Fancy Flies, 189 nonsense talked about, 99 when to be used, 190 Field-glasses in fishing, 142 Fish following fly down-stream, 112 Fishing opposite bank, 51 — the rise, 31 Flies, as to size of, 190 — contradictory directions concerning, 166 — enormous number of, 166 — eyed, advantage of, 192 — flat-winged and hackleywitt float, 160 — for Dry Fly angler, 170 — local prejudices concern^ ing, 193 — size of, 203 — various injunctions as to, 192 — very small, disadvantage of, 191 Fly-tying, 192 Foster, of Scientific Angler, his experiments, 173 Francis Francis, on Bakewell Dam, 116 Fry, the shyness of, 80 Goit, the river, 194 Governor, the, 190 Grannom, on Kennet, 170 Grayling, angling for, with Dry Fly, 54 — do not rise well after dark, 153 — in Manifold, 233 — in Wye (Derbyshire), 215 — Senior's views on, 54 — out of condition, 55 — rise of, 56 — take Wet Fly, 7 Hackle Fly, use of a, 128 Halford's, H. M., Dry Fly Fishing, 23 Hawker's (Colonel) Diary, 72 — fliesr25 Howitt's (William) Rural Life of England, 63 Hungerford, night fishing at, 149 Hurrying, a sign of a bad angler, 18 Ideal day for Dry Fly fishing, 23 L ^ INDEX 237 Imitation of nature, necessity of, 38 Iron Blue Dun, 204, 174 Isis, above Oxford, 109 Itchen, a thorough Dry Fly stream, 9 Jefferies (Richard), on hours spent with Nature, 18 Jennings, Mr. Louis, anecdote of, 220 Kennet, Sedge Fly on, 85 Kneeling, when necessary, 51 Lambourne, a thorough Dry Fly stream, 9 Late evening fishing, 50 Lea, Upper, a thorough Dry Fly stream, 9 Lessons in Dry Fly fishing, irritating effect of, 28 Liffey, a reminiscence of the, 27 Light, a bad, 67 Little Chap, the, 211 — May Dun, 205 Loitering, in Dry Fly fishing, 17 Longparish, fish in 1814, 65 Lynn, an adventure on the, 33 Manifold, natural May-fly used on, 11 — Wet Fly on the, 5 March-brown, as a Dry Fly, 179 Marsh Waters, the, 84 Maxwell, Sir Herbert, on wariness of trout, 79 May-fly, best imitation of the, 207 — disappointment of, 182 — in past days, 180 — on Wye (Derbyshire), 206 — season, popularity of, 182 May-flies, worthless imitations of, 185 Miller's Dale, May-fly in, 205 Mills, their effect on trout fishing, 81 Mollusca and Crustacea, 127 Motion, imparted to flies, 33 Near and fine fishing, 118 Nicety of cast, advantage of, 202 Norway, Dry Fly in, 3 — method of fishing in, 3 NynvphM, impossibility of imitating, 90 Olive Dun, great hatch of, 175 — the predominating Fly, 172 — various forms of, 172 Outfit, angler's, 24 Paraffin, or Peter's oil, in fishing, 138 — when really useful, 140 Picking off fish after fish, art of, 38 Prince, Mr., use of minnow by, 5 Red Quill Gnat, 154, 177 Reluctance of trout to rise to artificial, 71, 82 Rods, length of, 26 Ronald (Alfred), observatory on Blythe, 95 Rookery, incident at the, 155 Rutland Arms, the, Bakewell, — 50, 217 Sand Fly, 208 Scenery, in Dry Fly fishing, 140,16 Sedge Fly, at night, 150 I— for big trout, 161 — in immense quantity, 176 September, as an angling month, 20 — fishing in Wye (Derbyshire), 210 Smutting fish, 95 — best flies for, 98 — on Darenth, 100 — study of a, 96 " Smuts " or "curses," ignorance concerning the, 95 neglected by entomologists, 96 — too small for imitation, 101 "South West," notes on Dry Fly fishing,«22 238 INDEX Spent Gnat, trout rising at, 154, 184 Stalking a trout, 44 Steel rods, 119 Striking too soon, 105 — when dibbing, 133 Sunshine, in Dry Fly fishing, 64 Swammerdam, wonderful industry of, 178 Swan mussel and unwary bird, 128 "Tailing"Trout, 91 — Alder fly for, 93 — method of fishing for, 92 — wasting precious time over, 94 Test, a thorough Dry Fly stream, 9 Trout, agitated by sight of Fly, 132 — conduct of, in evening, 162 — firmly hooked, and the reverse, 70 — in April, 15 — in Colonel Hawker's time, 72 — increased wariness of, 17 — movements of, seen clearly, 104 — offended by " drag," 8 — on very hot days, 129 — position of, as season advances, 102 — pricked, but not scared, 106 — stone-like conduct of, 14 Trout, superiority of, to other fresh-water fish, 145 — when not fit to take, 15 Turkey Brown Fly, 205 Undersized fish, taking, 229 Up-stream and down-stream fishing, 32 Ver trout, on a bright day765 Water-glasses, use of in fishing, 142 Water weed cutting, 81, 83 Watery Dun, for smutting fish, 209 Weather, fishing, 24 Weeds, fish at night do not go to, 158 Wet Fly angler, at work, 34 — why taken, 39 Wickham Fancy, 180 Willmotfc's (Rev. Aria), Summertime in the Country, 19 Wind in Dry Fly fishing, 59, 66 Windrush, the, 109 Wye (Derbyshire), as a Dry Fly stream, 195 Wye (Wales), a thorough Wet Fly stream, 9 — trouting in Sept., 20 Wye (Derbyshire) trout, Kke Dry Fly, 2 Yellow Dun, distinct from Olive, 175 Yellow Sally, 208 THE END Richard day <£• Son$, Limited, London <L- Bungtiy. r 1 J SH k$6 D k 1897 University of British Columbia library DUE DATE POKMS.O 3/</%g
Books
English
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Original Format: University of British Columbia. Library. Woodward Library. Memorial Room. Hawthorn collection. SH456 .D4 1897
Fishing
Flies, Artificial
The book of the dry fly
Text