ciates. The keeper
that night received double largess. I had to exercise much
self-control to keep myself from smiting him familiarly on the back and
executing a Red Indian war dance around the victims. He said he hoped
I would come again to those regions, turned over the coin I gave him,
and intimated that if the trout (which he was now packing neatly into
the creel) were not satisfied with the gentlemanly manner in which they
were treated they would be pleased at nothing. And it was not for me
to dissent or rebuke.

My best-day memory of grayling fishing up to my colonial interlude is
of a wet, muggy November day in Herefordshire. It was late in the
month, and as the previous week had been marked by early frost, the
sere leaves, having lost their grip, were rattling down on the water
with every gust, and, indeed, from the mere weight of the rain. It was
pretty practice, dropping the flies so as to avoid these little
impediments; but it wasted time and strained the temper, for, according
to custom in grayling land at that period, one had attached three or
four flies to the cast, and thereby increased the chances of fouling.
Yet I finished the day with eighteen grayling, to be placed to the
contra account against a most complete soaking. The better fish were
invariably found in the eye or tail of a moderate stream, the rest on
gravelly or sandy shelves where the water was about 2 ft. deep. The
former hooked themselves, taking the fly fairly under water; the latter
came direct to the surface, and demanded careful striking and playing.

Picking my way through a copse where the banks were high, I sat down on
an overhanging rock to rest. When the eye became accustomed to the
water and its buff bed it detected a couple of grayling that had before
escaped notice, so closely were they assimilated in colour to the
ground in which they foraged. Of course, I had always accepted the
teaching of my betters that this fish rises perpendicularly from the
bottom in deep water after the fly, but I had never verified the
statement for myself. I did so now. By proceeding quietly I could
"dib" the fly over the fish. It darted straight upwards, missed, and
descended again. As it seemed uneasy after the exercise I repeated the
experiment, with precisely similar results. The fish, agitating its
fins at the bottom, was evidently excited, perhaps angry, and it
behoved me to restore tranquillity, if possible, to its perturbed
sp