AS FISH HAVE GROWN more knowing, man has grown more cunning, and has devised new schemes to outwit his prey. Now, instead of fishing downstream, he fishes upstream, that he may be below and behind the fish, and, therefore, less in sight: for fish, it must be borne in mind, always lie with their heads upstream. Moreover, where he used to stand, he now kneels or crawls. That his rod may not be seen, he moves it horizontally—not vertically, as of old—and he never, if he can help it, allows the point to extend over the water. That his line may be seen as little as possible, he no longer searches the water haphazard, but reserves his cast until he has found and noted the exact position of a rising fish, or, at any rate, of a fish lying so near the surface as to suggest the strong possibility that it is on the watch for flies. Then, instead of using two or three flies, he selects one, imitating, as closely as may be, in colour and size the natural flies he has observed on the water. This he deftly casts so that it shall fall on the water as lightly as a flake of snow, some eighteen inches or so above the fish, and float with its wing erect,—“apeak,” as they say of a cutter’s foresail—and if he allows it, without check or suspicious movement, to be carried by the stream over the nose of the trout. At that instant, if Fortune smiles, he sees a bubble rise, hears a faint sound like a baby’s kiss, and the tug-of-war begins. If the trout refuses, or the cast was not accurately made, he lets the fly drift on, far below the fish, so that the ripple made in withdrawing it from the water may not disturb the trout, and proceeds, verberare nebulas, to dry his fly by whipping it backwards and forwards through the air until it is once more buoyant. He then tries again. Should the trout refuse at the second time of asking, the angler, if wise, will change his fly; if very wise, he will change his fish, making a mental note to “call again.” This slight sketch will enable the reader to see the importance of closely imitating the flies on the water, and the skill required in presenting the counterfeit to fish.
Mr. Halford’s first book gives ninety hand-coloured engravings of the most killing flies on southern streams, with illustrated directions on how to tie them, and full particulars of the materials used in their manufacture. In his second he describes in writing, and shows by plates taken from instantaneous photographs, how to cast. Beyond this, he tells us, if not all that is known, more than most of us know, of dry fly-fishing and all that is incidental thereto. His work is direct in purpose, distinct in precept, and clear in expression. At more than this he does not seem to have aimed.
An unpretentious but useful little book by “Cotswold Isis, M. A.,” called A Handy Guide to Dry Fly-fishing, follows the same lines; while Captain Hale’s How to Tie Salmon-flies offers to all who would dress these gaudy lures the assistance already provided for the trout-fisher by Mr. Halford. Out of a host of other works, the most interesting that have come to my notice are:—
The book of the All-round Angler, by John Bickerdyke; Rod and River, by Major Fisher, which, amongst other things, gives the dressing of some salmon-flies not elsewhere described; How and Where to Fish in Ireland, by Hi Regan—useful not only in the “distressful island”; Shooting and Salmon-fishing, by A. Grimble; and Fraser Sandeman’s By Hook or by Crook. In both these last the illustrations are exceptionally good. And I cannot end without recording the pleasure I found in reading Favourite Flies and their Histories, by an American lady, Mrs. Mary Orvis Marbury. This is clearly a labour of love, and the reader cannot fail to share the enthusiasm of the writer. Not even the plates (and they are marvelously coloured) can arrest one’s attention until the last chapter is read.
On many points, the writers on fly-fishing “differ like doctors, wrangle like divines,” but they are nearly all at one on the following propositions:—
(1) Fly-fishers have vastly increased in numbers.
(2) Streams and rivers fit for the fly-fisher have decreased in number; but
(3) Have increased in rental value.
(4) Trout have become more scarce.
(5) Trout are smaller in size.
(6) Trout do not rise to the fly as freely as they did.
The earnest one of distress in which some writers bemoan the hard fate of the fly-fisher almost justifies the addition of a supplemental proposition, which may run thus:—
“To provide every fly-fisher with fair sport at a reasonable price is a burning problem of the day, eclipsing and throwing into shade all questions of secondary importance, such as those connected with agricultural depression, strikes and lock-outs, the living wage, pensions for the aged poor, et hoc genus omne.”
But let us briefly examine these statements. That anglers with the fly have increased in number, will, I trust, be granted by the reader who has followed me thus far. That they should increase is natural. Without dilating on the “calm delights” of angling, or “dropping into poetry,” a good reason for the popularity of fly-fishing as a recreation can be given from a purely utilitarian point of view.
