cast stuck in a good grilse, which darted off down-stream in a succession of what Robert called standing leaps; and the fish must have been well hooked as he had slack line quite half a dozen times. At the end of the pool the fish steadied himself in the middle of the current, stood on his head, and strove hard to get rid of the fly by hitting the casting line with his tail. Whereupon Robert got very excited, and started stoning him as fast as he could pick up and throw. At last he must have made a good shot, as the grilse suddenly darted up the river like a shot out of a gun, to turn two splendid somersaults clean out of the water, and then remain quite still. After that I had no difficulty in guiding him into slack water at our feet, where Robert slipped the net under and landed a silvery grilse of six and three-quarter pounds with sea-lice still on him.

Directly afterwards I lost another grilse in the same pool- a mad fish which was more out of the water than in while I had it on. Fresh run grilse, if they jump much, which they generally do, are very difficult to kill, owing to the softness of their mouths when just out of the sea. stiff rod and reel with a strong check are fatal; your only chance is with a softish rod, and reel check light and smooth. I found Robert's knowledge of the river invaluable. Here the fish would lie right under

A

the very bank at our feet, there on the edge of the stream on the far side, and one had to drop the fly almost on the opposite bank to cover the fish properly. In one pool there were always grilse behind a certain large rock in the middle of the river, and the fly must be cast straight down over this rock to fall behind it at the end of a tight and straight line, and kept there gently twitching if a fish was to be risen at all. If cast in the usual way at an angle of 45°, by the time the fly reached the lie of the fish the line would be in a series of curves, and the fly, as Robert described it, in a ball.

While eating our lunch on the bank of the river a tiny bare-legged girl passed, carrying a basket, and stopped to admire the five grilse we had caught laid out in a row on the grass. After a minute, Robert, who was always full of curiosity and mischief, asked her in a coaxing tone, "Phat have ye in the basket, agra?" The child looked from Robert to me, and answered, Phat's that to ye?" Robert, in a tone of mock surprise, “Oh, will ye listen to the child. Come, now, tell the gintleman phat ye have in that grand basket." And like a flash the child answered, "I will not; would yerself tell phat any fool asked ye?" and clutching her basket tight, she ran away as fast as her little legs would carry her, leaving Robert for once in his life without an answer.

After lunch we did no good until we reached an unusually large pool, and here the sport was fast and furious, every cast in one part of the pool moving a fish. One grilse, which after being hooked never showed once but zigzagged across the river at lightning speed, must have failed to observe the rule of the river and bumped into several of his friends, as his course was marked by alarmed grilse jumping madly out of his way in their headlong flight up the pool. We killed him, and I thought that he would be the last fish to rise in that pool, but the very next cast I was into another, only to lose him at the the second wild jump. Hardly was he gone when Robert drew my attention to an otter swimming up the middle of the pool just below the surface and making a peculiar wake: splitting the water was Robert's description, and a perfect one. After that we neither moved nor saw another fish in that pool.

Charles and Jack caught us up at the last pool, and there was great excitement when it was discovered that we each had eleven grilse; and as I had been the leading rod so far, Charles was given the honour. It was now getting late and the sun fast sinking, while the wind had nearly died away; but the water was broken in many places by the boils from salmon-pits and big submerged rocks.

Charles wasted no time, but

his

started off at once casting in his usual mechanical way, every cast at an exact angle of 45° across the river, and fished out in the same manner and at the same pace; while behind him crouched Jack, eager to stick his great gaff into the twelfth fish and defeat us.

When Charles had got well ahead I was on the point of starting, when I heard a hoarse whisper from Robert, "Whist, take yer time. Put up the biggest fly in the box, drop her into yonder grand boil, and be after kaping her there." And the cunning Robert was right; for after putting up the biggest fly I had, and keeping it working in the grand boil for about half a minute, I felt a tug, and the scream of the reel was drowned by Robert's yells of triumph.

Charles did not even turn his head, and went on fishing for all he was worth; but Jack started to hop up and down the bank, and Robert declared afterwards that he could hear him grinding his teeth from the agony of his rage.

But Robert's triumph was short-lived; a wild shout from Jack told us that Charles had met a fish, and the excitement all round rose to fever heat. Twice Charles's fish came perilously near to mine, and even the polite Robert could not help saying, "Now, Master Charles, fair-play's a jewel." But Charles said nothing, his whole attention centred on get

ting that twelfth fish on the bank before mine. By now both Robert and Jack were half in the river with gaffs stretched out, waiting for a chance to drive them home. Suddenly a curse from Charles, the first and last word he spoke, and I saw his rod straighten; Jack had missed the fish and cut his line. And the infuriated Jack promptly started to wade out into the river after the fish, to be caught and pulled back by Charles, and then sit down on the bank and burst into tears, while Charles stood grimly by and nobody uttered a sound.

For some minutes my fish had remained ominously quiet, and thinking that Robert might get a chance with his gaff before the fish woke up again, I shortened up the line and began to guide him in towards the bank. One tremendous jump, and fish and fly were gone, and Jack's tears quickly changed to laughter.

Back to the head of the pool we went. I tossed up a coin, and Charles winning, he started off fishing once more. In the meantime Robert had produced a cast like a cart-rope and a huge white fly, and attached them to my reel-line.

By now it was nearly dark, and at times I could only locate Charles by the swish of his rod. We had nearly reached the end of the pool when a shout from Jack told us that Charles must be in a fish, and the next cast my rod was nearly snatched out of my

hands, and I guessed that I must be in a spring fish. As bad luck would have it, Charles's fish insisted on going up-stream close to the bank at my feet, while mine bolted straight for the sea, making white water. I tried hard to hold him, and must have nearly dragged him out of the water, for he churned it up like the screw of a steamer; but he was too strong for me, and when the rod began to give out warnings and cracks, I had to give him line.

Something had to go, and of course it was Charles's light cast, unequal to a tugof-war with my cart-rope, and we could see the top of his rod fly straight against the sky. Jack now literally howled with rage, and threatened me with every penalty he had ever heard of, including the wrath of the Resident Magistrate the following Tuesday. But the end was not yet, and even Jack became silent with astonishment when two fish, a large springer and a grilse, jumped close together in mid-stream, showing up like two flashes of phosphorescent silver against the black water.

After this both fish kept quiet, though at times I could feel a light and a heavy tug on the line; and winding up as fast as I could, I gripped the line and and dragged the fish towards the spot where I could hear Robert splashing in the river and breathing heavily.

Probably they were not the

first fish Robert had gaffed in the dark, and how he did it I could not see, but in two shots he had both fish out and on the bank. Luckily he met Charles's grilse first, and his cast, which was wound round mine and held by the two droppers, having fouled each other, at once snapped.

The excitement over, I felt horribly tired and hungry, and was thankful to get on to the outside car waiting for us as soon as Charles and Jack had crossed the river by boat at the mouth.

The drive back along the shore of the bay, though short, was wonderful. The sea was quite calm, and looked like burnished silver tinged with a faint blue. On each side tow

ered the mountains, black where they met the sea, then blackish purple, and at the top the last rays of light made the rocks show up like dull steel. We heard several snipe, crossing from our side to feed in some marsh in the opposite mountains, and from the shore came the wild call of curlew and the plaintive cry of redshanks.

Jack never spoke during the drive, and he confided to Robert afterwards that he was in great dread of me, as it was quite certain that I must have paid at least £4 to the devil himself for an amulet. "Why?" asked Robert. "Every why," replied Jack; "'faith, he couldn't lose a fish if he wanted to."