e is a short stretch of two hundred yards, where, as we
fish up stream, the breeze will be almost at our backs, and there are
fish enough to occupy us for an hour or so; afterwards, we shall have to
"cut the wind" as best we can.

As we pass down stream the pale olive duns are hatching out in fair
numbers, and a few fish are already on the move. What lovely, delicate
things are these duns! and how "beautifully and wonderfully are they
made"! If you catch one you will see that it is as delicate and
transparent as it can possibly be. Not even the may-fly can compare with
the dun. And what rare food for trout they supply! For more than six
weeks, from April 1st, they hatch out by thousands every sunny day. The
may-fly may be a total failure, but week after week in the early spring
you may go down to the riverside with but one sort of fly, and if there
are fish to be caught at all, the pale-winged olive dun will catch them;
and in spite of the fact that there are a few may-flies on the water, it
is with the little duns that we intend to start our fishing to-day. The
trout have not yet got thoroughly accustomed to the green-drake, and the
"Durby day" will not be here for a week. It is far better to leave them
"to get reconciled" to the new fly (as the keeper would put it); they
will "quap" up all the better in a few days if allowed, in angling
phraseology, "to get well on to the fly."

On arriving at the spot at which we intend commencing operations, it is
evident that the rise has begun. Happily, everything was in readiness.
Our tapered gut cast has been wetted, and a tiny-eyed fly is at the end.
The gut nearest the hook is as fine as gut can possibly be. Anything
thicker would be detected, for a spring joins the river at this point
and makes the water rather clear. Higher up we need not be so
particular. There is a fish rising fifteen yards above us; so, crouching
low and keeping back from the bank, we begin casting. A leather
kneecap, borrowed from the harness-room, is strapped on to the knee, and
is a good precaution against rheumatism. The first cast is two feet
short of the rise, but with the next we hook a trout. He makes a
tremendous rush, and runs the reel merrily. We manage to keep him out of
the weeds and land him--a silvery "Loch Leven," about three-quarters of
a pound, and in excellent condition. Only two years ago he was put into
the stream with five hundred others as a yearling. The next two rising
fish are t