Web
and Book design,
Copyright, Kellscraft Studio 1999-2007 (Return to Web Text-ures) |
(HOME)
|
Second Day CHAPTER III PISCATOR.
Good
morrow, Sir! What, up and dressed so early? VIAT. Yes,
Sir, I
have been dressed this half-hour; for I rested so well, and have so
great a
mind either to take, or see a Trout taken, in your fine river, that I
could no
longer lie abed. PISC. I am
glad to
see you so brisk this morning, and so eager of sport; though, I must
tell you,
this day proves so calm, and the sun rises so bright, as promises no
great
success to the Angler; but, however, we'll try; and, one way or other,
we
shall, sure, do something. What will you have to your breakfast, or
what will
you drink this morning? VIAT. For breakfast, I never eat any, and for drink I am very indifferent; but if you please to call for a glass of ale, I'm for you: and let it be quickly, if you please, for I long to see the little fishing-house you spoke of, and to be at my lesson. PISC.
Well, Sir!
You see the ale is come without calling; for though I do not know
yours, my
people know my diet; which is always one glass so soon as I am dressed,
and no
more till dinner; and so my servants have served you. VIAT. My
thanks.
And now, if you please, let us look out this fine morning. PISC. With
all my
heart; boy, take the key of my fishing-house, and carry down those two
angle-rods in the hall-window, thither, with my fish-pannier, pouch,
and
landing-net; and stay you there till we come. Come, Sir, we'll walk
after;
where, by the way, I expect you should raise all the exceptions against
our
country you can. VIAT. Nay,
Sir, do
not think me so ill-natured nor so uncivil: I only made a little bold
with it
last night to divert you, and was only in jest. PISC. You
were then
in as good earnest as I am now with you: but had you been really angry
at it, I
could not blame you; for, to say the truth, it is not very taking at
first
sight. But look you, Sir, now you are abroad, does not the sun shine as
bright
here as in Essex, Middlesex, or Kent, or any of your southern counties?
VIAT. 'Tis
a
delicate morning indeed! And I now think this a marvellous pretty
place. PISC.
Whether you
think so or no, you cannot oblige me more than to say so; and those of
my
friends who know my humor, and are so kind as to comply with it,
usually
flatter me that way. But look you, Sir, now you are at the brink of the
hill,
how do you like my river, the vale it winds through like a snake, and
the
situation of my little fishing-house? VIAT.
Trust me,
'tis all very fine; and the house seems at this distance a neat
building. PISC. Good
enough
for that purpose. And here is a bowling-green too, close by it; so,
though I am
myself no very good bowler, I am not totally devoted to my own
pleasure, but
that I have also some regard to other men's. And now, Sir, you are come
to the
door; pray walk in, and there we will sit and talk, as long as you
please. VIAT.
Stay, what's
here over the door? PISCATORIBUS SACRUM!* Why then I perceive I have
some title
here; for I am one of them, though one of the worst; and here below it
is the
cipher too you spoke of, and 'tis prettily contrived. Has my Master
Walton ever
been here to see it? for it seems new built. PISC. Yes,
he saw
it cut in the stone before it was set up; but never in the posture it
now
stands: for the house was but building when he was last here, and not
raised so
high as the arch of the door. And I am afraid he will not see it yet;
for he
has lately writ me word, he doubts his coming down this summer; which,
I do
assure you, was the worst news he could possibly have sent me. VIAT. Men
must
sometimes mind their affairs to make more room for their pleasures; and
'tis
odds he is as much displeased with the business that keeps him from
you, as you
are that he comes not. But I am the most pleased with this little house
of
anything I ever saw: it stands in a kind of peninsula, too, with a
delicate
clear river about it. I dare hardly go in, lest I should not like it so
well
within as without; but by your leave I'll try. Why this is better and
better,
fine lights, finely wainscoted, and all exceeding neat, with a marble
table and
all in the middle. PISC.
Enough, Sir,
enough! I have laid open to you the part where I can worst defend
myself; and
now you attack me there! Come, boy, set two chairs, and whilst I am
taking a
pipe of tobacco, which is always my breakfast, we will, if you please,
talk of
some other subject. VIAT. None
fitter,
then, Sir, for the time and place, than those instructions you
promised. PISC. I
begin to
doubt, by something I discover in you, whether I am able to instruct
you, or
no: though, if you are really a stranger to our clear northern rivers,
I still
think I can; and therefore, since it is yet too early in the morning at
this
time of the year, to-day being but the 7th of March, to cast a fly upon
the
water, if you will direct me what kind of fishing for a Trout I shall
read you
a lecture on, I am willing and ready to obey you. VIAT. Why,
Sir, if
you will so far oblige me and that it may not be too troublesome to
you, I
would entreat you would run through the whole body of it; and I will
not
conceal from you, that I am so far in love with you, your courtesy, and
pretty
Moreland seat, as to resolve to stay with you long enough by intervals;
for I
will not oppress you, to hear all you can say upon that subject. PISC. You
cannot
oblige me more than by such a promise. And, therefore, without more
ceremony I
will begin to tell you, that my Father Walton having read to you
before, it
would look like a presumption in me, and peradventure would do so in
any other
man, to pretend to give lessons for Angling after him who, I do really
believe,
understands as much of it, at least, as any man in England; did I not
pre-acquaint you, that I am not tempted to it by any vain opinion of
myself,
that I am able to give you better directions; but, having from my
childhood
pursued the recreation of Angling in very clear rivers, — truly I think
by much,
some of them at least, the clearest in this kingdom, — and the manner
of
Angling here with us, by reason of that exceeding clearness, being
something
different from the method commonly used in others, which, by being not
near so
bright, admit of stronger tackle, and allow a nearer approach to the
stream; —
I may, peradventure, give you some instructions, that may be of use
even in
your own rivers; and shall bring you acquainted with more flies, and
show you
how to make them, and with what dubbing too, than he has taken notice
of in his
Compleat Angler. VIAT. I beseech you, Sir, do: and, if you will lend me your steel, I will light a pipe the while; for that is commonly my breakfast in a morning, too. ____________________*There is,
under
this motto, the cipher mentioned in the title-page. And some part of
the
fishing-house has been described; but the pleasantness of the river,
mountains,
and meadows about it cannot, unless Sir Philip Sidney, or Mr. Cotton's
father,
were again alive to do it. CHAPTER IV PISCATOR.
Why then,
Sir, to begin methodically, as a master in any art should do, — and I
will not
deny but that I think myself a master in this, — I shall divide Angling
for
Trout or Gray ling into these three ways: at the top, at the bottom,
and in
the middle; which three ways, though they are all of them, as I shall
hereafter
endeavor to make it appear, in some sort common to both those kinds of
fish,
yet are they not so generally and absolutely so but that they will
necessarily
require a distinction; which, in due place, I will also give you. That which
we call
angling at the top is with a fly; at the bottom, with a ground-bait; in
the
middle, with a minnow, or ground-bait. Angling at
the top
is of two sorts: with a quick-fly, or with an artificial-fly. That we
call angling
at the bottom is also of two sorts: by the hand, or with a cork or
float. That we
call
angling in the middle is also of two sorts: with a minnow for a Trout,
or with
a ground-bait for a Grayling. Of all
which
several sorts of Angling I will, if you can have the patience to hear
me, give
you the best account I can. VIAT. The
trouble
will be yours, and mine the pleasure and the obligation. I beseech you,
therefore, to proceed. PISC. Why,
then,
first of Fly-fishing. CHAPTER V PISCATOR.
Fly-fishing, or fishing at the top, is, as I said before, of two sorts:
with a
Natural, and living, Fly, or with an Artificial, and made, Fly. First,
then, Of the
Natural Fly: of which we generally use but two sorts, and those but in
the two
months of May and June only, namely, the Green-drake and the Stone-fly;
though
I have made use of a third that way, called the Camlet-fly, with very
good success
for Grayling, but never saw it angled with by any other after this
manner, my
master only excepted, who died many years ago, and was one of the best
Anglers
that ever I knew. These are
to be
angled with, with a short line, not much more than half the length of
your rod,
if the air be still; or with a longer, very near or all out as long as
your
rod, if you have any wind to carry it from you: and this way of fishing
we call
Daping, Dabbing, or Dibbling; wherein you are always to have your line
flying
before you up or down the river as the wind serves, and to angle as
near as you
can to the bank of the same side whereon you stand: though where you
see a fish
rise near you, you may guide your quick-fly over him, whether in the
middle, or
on the contrary side; and, if you are pretty well out of sight, either
by
kneeling or the interposition of a bank or bush, you may almost be sure
to
raise, and take him too, if it be presently done; the fish will
otherwise,
peradventure, be removed to some other place, if it be in the
still-deeps,
where he is always in motion, and roving up and down to look for prey;
though
in a stream, you may always, almost, especially if there be a good
stone near,
find him in the same place. Your line ought in this case to be three
good hairs
next the hook; both by reason you are, in this kind of Angling, to
expect the
biggest fish, and also that, wanting length to give him line after he
is
struck, you must be forced to tug for't; to which I will also add,
that, not an
inch of your line being to be suffered to touch the water in dibbling,
it may
be allowed to be the stronger. I should now give you a description of
those
flies, their shape and color, and then give you an account of their
breeding,
and withal show you how to keep and use them; but shall defer that to
their
proper place and season. VIAT. In
earnest,
Sir, you discourse very rationally of this affair, and I am glad to
find myself
mistaken in you; for in plain truth I did not expect so much from you. PISC. Nay, Sir, I can tell you a great deal more than this, and will conceal nothing from you. But I must now come to the second way of angling at the top, which is with an artificial-fly, which also I will show you how to make before I have done: but first shall acquaint you, that with this you are to angle with a line longer, by a yard and a half or sometimes two yards, than your rod; and with both this, and the other, in a still day, in the streams, in a breeze that curls the water in the still-deeps, where (excepting in May and June, that the best Trouts will lie in shallow streams to watch for prey, and even then too) you are like to hit the best fish. For the
length of
your rod, you are always to be governed by the breadth of the river you
shall
choose to angle at: and for a Trout-river, one of five or six yards
long is
commonly enough; and longer, though never so neatly and artificially
made, it
ought not to be, if you intend to fish at ease; and if otherwise, where
lies
the sport? Of these,
the best
that ever I saw are made in Yorkshire, which are all of one piece: that
is to
say of several, six, eight, ten, or twelve pieces, so neatly pieced,
and tied
together with fine thread below, and silk above, as to make it taper,
like a
switch, and to ply with a true bent to your hand. And these, too, are
light,
being made of fir-wood for two or three lengths nearest to the hand,
and of
other wood nearer to the top; that a man might very easily manage the
longest
of them that ever I saw, with one hand. And these, when you have given
over
Angling for a season, being taken to pieces, and laid up in some dry
place, may
afterwards be set together again in their former postures, and will be
as
straight, sound, and good as the first hour they were made; and being
laid in
oil and color, according to your Master Walton's direction, will last
many
years. The length
of your
line, to a man that knows how to handle his rod, and to cast it, is no
manner
of encumbrance, excepting in woody places and in landing of a fish,
which every
one that can afford to angle for pleasure has somebody to do for him.
And the
length of line is a mighty advantage to the fishing at distance; and to
fish fine, and far
off, is the first and principal rule for Trout-Angling. Your line
in this
case should never be less, nor ever exceed two hairs next to the hook;
for one
(though some I know will pretend to more art than their fellows) is
indeed too
few, the least accident, with the finest hand, being sufficient to
break it;
but he that cannot kill a Trout of twenty inches long with two, in a
river
clear of wood and weeds, as this and some other of ours are, deserves
not the
name of an Angler. Now to have your whole line as it ought to be, two of the first lengths nearest the hook should be of two hairs apiece; the next three lengths above them of three; the next three above them of four; and so of five, and six, and seven, to the very top: by which means your rod and tackle will, in a manner, be taper from your very hand to your hook; your line will fall much better and straighter, and cast your fly to any certain place to which the hand and eye shall direct it, with less weight and violence, than would otherwise circle the water and fright away the fish. In casting
your
line, do it always before you, and so that your fly may first fall upon
the
water, and as little of your line with it as is possible; though if the
wind be
stiff, you will then of necessity be compelled to drown a good part of
your
line to keep your fly in the water: and in casting your fly, you must
aim at
the further, or nearer bank, as the wind serves your turn; which also
will he
with and against you on the same side, several times in an hour, as the
river
winds in its course; and you will be forced to angle up and down by
turns
accordingly; but are to endeavor, as much as you can, to have the wind
evermore
on your back. And always be sure to stand as far off the bank as your
length
will give you leave when you throw to the contrary side: though, when
the wind
will not permit you so to do, and that you are constrained to angle on
the same
side whereon you stand, you must then stand on the very brink of the
river, and
cast your fly at the utmost length of your rod and line, up or down the
river
as the gale serves. It only
remains,
touching your line, to inquire whether your two hairs, next to the
hook, are
better twisted, or open. And for that I should declare that I think the
open
way the better, because it makes less show in the water; but that I
have found
an inconvenience, or two, or three, that have made me almost weary of
that
way: of which one is, that, without dispute, they are not so strong
open as
twisted; another, that they are not easily to be fast ened of so exact
an
equal length in the arming, that the one will not cause the other to
bag, by
which means a man has but one hair, upon the matter, to trust to; and
the last
is, that these loose flying hairs are not only more apt to catch upon
every
twig or bent they meet with, but moreover the hook, in falling upon the
water,
will very often rebound, and fly back betwixt the hairs, and there
stick
(which, in a rough water especially, is not presently to be discerned
by the
Angler), so as the point of the hook shall stand reversed; by which
means your
fly swims backwards, makes a much greater circle in the water, and,
till taken
home to you and set right, will never raise any fish; or, if it should,
I am
sure, but by a very extraordinary chance, can hit none. Having
done with
both these ways of fishing at the top, the length of your rod, and
line, and
all, I am next to teach you how to make a fly; and afterwards, of what
dubbing
you are to make the several flies I shall hereafter name to you. In making
a fly,
then, which is not a Hackle, or Palmer-fly (for of those, and their
several
kinds, we shall have occasion to speak every month in the year), you
are first
to hold your hook fast betwixt the forefinger and thumb of your left
hand, with
the back of the shank upwards, and the point towards your fingers'
ends: then
take a strong small silk of the color of the fly you intend to make,
wax it
well with wax of the same color too: to which end you are always, by
the way, to
have wax of all colors about you; and draw it betwixt your finger and
thumb, to
the head of the shank, and then whip it twice or thrice about the bare
hook,
which you must know is done, both to prevent slipping, and also that
the shank
of the hook may not cut the hairs of your towght, which sometimes it
will
otherwise do. Which being done, take your line and draw it likewise
betwixt
your finger and thumb, holding the hook fast, as only to suffer it to
pass y,
until you have the knot of your towght almost to the middle of the
shank of
your hook, on the inside of it; then whip your silk twice or thrice
about both
hook and line, as hard as the strength of the silk will permit. Which
being
done, strip the feather for the wings proportionable to the bigness of
your
fly, placing that side downwards which grew uppermost before, upon the
back of
the hook, leaving so much only as to serve for the length of the wing
of the
point of the plume lying reversed from the end of the shank upwards:
then whip
your silk twice or thrice about the root-end of the feather, hook, and
towght.
Which being done, clip off the root-end of the feather close by the
arming, and
then whip the silk fast and firm about the hook and towght, until you
come to
the bend of the hook: but not further, as you do at London, and so make
a very
unhandsome, and, in plain English, a very unnatural and shapeless fly.
Which
being done, cut away the end of your towght, and fasten it. And then
take your
dubbing which is to make the body of your fly, as much as you think
convenient;
and, holding it lightly with your hook betwixt the finger and thumb of
your
left hand, take your silk with the right, and twisting it betwixt the
finger
and thumb of that hand, the dubbing will spin itself about the silk,
which when
it has done, whip it about the armed-hook backward, till you come to
the
setting on of the wings. And then take the feather for the wings, and
divide it
equally into two parts; and turn them back towards the end of the hook,
the one
on the one side and the other on the other of the shank, holding them
fast in
that posture betwixt the forefinger and thumb of your left hand. Which
done,
warp them so down as to stand and slope towards the bend of the hook;
and,
having warped up to the end of the shank, hold the fly fast betwixt the
finger
and thumb of your left hand, and then take the silk betwixt the finger
and
thumb of your right hand, and, where the warping ends, pinch or nip it
with
your thumb-nail against your finger, and strip away the remainder of
your dubbing
from the silk; and then, with the bare silk, whip it once or twice
about, make
the wings to stand in due order, fasten, and cut it off: after which
with the
point of a needle raise up the dubbing gently from the warp; twitch off
the
superfluous hairs of your dubbing; leave the wings of an equal length,
— your
fly will never else swim true; — and the work is done. And this way of
making a
fly, which is certainly the best of all other, was taught me by a
kinsman of
mine, one Captain Henry Jackson, a near neighbor, an admirable
Fly-Angler; by
many degrees the best fly-maker that ever I yet met with. And now that
I have
told you how a fly is to be made, you shall presently see me make one,
with
which you may per adventure take a Trout this morning, notwithstanding
the
unlikeliness of the day; for it is now nine of the clock, and fish
will begin
to rise if they will rise to-day. I will walk along by you, and look
on: and,
after dinner, I will proceed in my lecture of Fly-fishing. VIAT. I
confess I
long to be at the river; and yet I could sit here all day to hear you;
but some
of the one, and some of the other, will do well: and I have a mighty
ambition
to take a Trout in your river Dove. PISC. I
warrant you
shall: I would not for more than I will speak of but you should, seeing
I have
so extolled my river to you. Nay, I will keep you here a month, but you
shall
have one good day of sport before you go. VIAT. You
will find
me, I doubt, too tractable that way; for, in good earnest, if business
would
give me leave, and that, if it were fit, I could find in my heart to
stay with
you forever. PISC. I
thank you,
Sir, for that kind expression; and now let me look out my things to
make this
fly. CHAPTER VI PISCATOR.
Boy!
come, give me my dubbing-bag here presently. And now, Sir, since I find
you so
honest a man, I will make no scruple to lay open my treasure before
you. VIAT. Did
ever any
one see the like! What a heap of trumpery is here! certainly never an
Angler in
Europe has his shop half so well furnished as you have. PISC. You,
perhaps,
may think now that I rake together this trumpery, as you call it, for
show
only; to the end that such as see it, which are not many I assure you,
may
think me a great master in the art of Angling; but let me tell you here
are
some colors, as contemptible as they seem here, that are very hard to
be got;
and scarce any one of them, which, if it should be lost, I should not
miss, and
be concerned about the loss of it too, once in the year. But look you,
Sir,
amongst all these I will choose out these two colors only, of which
this is
bear's hair, this darker, no great matter what: but I am sure I have
killed a
great deal of fish with it; and with one or both of these, you shall
take Trout
or Grayling this very day, notwithstanding all disadvantages, or my art
shall
fail me. VIAT. You
promise
comfortably, and I have a great deal of reason to believe everything
you say;
but I wish the fly were made, that we were at it. PISC. That
will not
be long in doing; and pray observe then. You see first how I hold my
hook, and
thus I begin. Look you, here are my first two or three whips about the
bare
hook; thus I join hook and line; thus I put on my wings; thus I twirl
and lap
on my dubbing; thus I work it up towards the head; thus I part my
wings; thus I
nip my superfluous dubbing from my silk; thus fasten; thus trim and
adjust my
fly: and there's a fly made. And now how do you like it? VIAT. In
earnest,
admirably well; and it perfectly resembles a fly: but we about London
make the
bodies of our flies both much bigger and longer, — so long as even
almost to
the very beard of the hook. PISC. I
know it
very well, and had one of those flies given me by an honest gentleman,
who came
with my Father Walton to give me a visit; which, to tell you the truth,
I hung
in my parlor window to laugh at: but Sir, you know the proverb, "They
who
go to Rome must do as they at Rome do"; and, believe me, you must here
make your flies after this fashion, or you will take no fish. Come, I
will look
you out a line, and you shall put it on, and try it. There, Sir, now I
think
you are fitted; and now beyond the farther end of the walk you shall
begin. I
see at that bend of the water above, the air crisps the water a little.
Knit
your line first here, and then go up thither, and see what you can do. VIAT. Did
you see
that, Sir? PISC. Yes,
I saw
the fish, and he saw you too, which made him turn short; you must fish
farther
off, if you intend to have any sport here; this is no New River, let me
tell
you! That was a good Trout, believe me; did you touch him? VIAT. No,
I would I
had, we would not have parted so! Look you, there was another! This is
an
excellent fly! PISC. That
fly, I
am sure, would kill fish, if the day were right; but they only chew at
it, I
see, and will not take it. Come, Sir, let us return back to the
fishing-house;
this still water I see will not do our business to-day. You shall now,
if you
please, make a fly yourself, and try what you can do in the streams
with that;
and I know a Trout taken with a fly of your own making will please you
better
than twenty with one of mine. Give me that bag again, Sirrah. Look you,
Sir,
there is a hook, towght, silk, and a feather for the wings: be doing
with
those, and I will look you out a dubbing that I think will do. VIAT. This
is a
very little hook. PISC. That
may
serve to inform you, that it is for a very little fly, and you must
make your
wings accordingly; for as the case stands it must be a little fly, and
a very
little one too, that must do your business. Well said! believe me you
shift
your fingers very handsomely: I doubt I have taken upon me to teach my
master.
So, here's your dubbing now. VIAT. This
dubbing
is very black. PISC. It
appears so
in hand, but step to the door and hold it up betwixt your eye and the
sun, and
it will appear a shining red: let me tell you, never a man in England
can
discern the true color of a dubbing any way but that; and therefore
choose
always to make your flies on such a bright sunshine day as this, which
also you
may the better do, because it is worth nothing to fish in. Here, put it
on; and
be sure to make the body of your fly as slender as you can. Very good!
Upon my
word you have made a marvellous handsome fly. VIAT. I am
very
glad to hear it; 'tis the first that ever I made of this kind in my
life. PISC.
Away, away!
You are a doctor at it: but I will not com mend you too much, lest I
make you
proud. Come, put it on, and you shall now go downward to some streams
betwixt
the rocks below the little foot-bridge you see there, and try your
fortune.
Take heed of slipping into the water as you follow me under this rock.
So, now
you are over, and now throw in. VIAT. This
is a
fine stream indeed! There's one! I have him. PISC. And
a
precious catch you have of him; pull him out! I see you have a tender
hand.
This is a diminutive gentleman; e'en throw him in again, and let him
grow till
he be more worthy your anger. VIAT.
Pardon me,
Sir, all's fish that comes to the hook with me now. Another! PISC. And
of the
same standing. VIAT. I
see I shall
have good sport now. Another! and a Gray ling. Why, you have fish here
at
will. PISC.
Come, come,
cross the bridge, and go down the other side, lower; where you will
find finer
streams, and better sport, I hope, than this. Look you, Sir, here is a
fine
stream now. you have length enough, stand a little farther off, let me
entreat
you; and do but fish this stream like an artist, and peradventure a
good fish
may fall to your share. How now! What, is all gone? VIAT. No,
I but
touched him; but that was a fish worth taking. PISC. Why now, let me
tell you,
you lost that fish by your own fault, and through your own eagerness
and haste;
for you are never to offer to strike a good fish, if he do not strike
himself,
till first you see him turn his head after he has taken your fly; and
then you
can never strain your tackle in the striking, if you strike with any
manner of
moderation. Come, throw in once again, and fish me this stream by
inches; for I
assure you here are very good fish: both Trout and Grayling lie here;
and at
that great stone on the other side, 'tis ten to one a good Trout gives
you the
meeting. VIAT. I
have him
now, but he has gone down towards the bottom. I cannot see what he is,
yet he
should be a good fish by his weight: but he makes no great stir. PISC. Why
then, by
what you say, I dare venture to assure you 'tis a Grayling, who is one
of the
deadest-hearted fishes in the world; and the bigger he is, the more
easily
taken. Look you, now you see him plain; I told you what he was. Bring
hither
that land ing-net, Boy. And now, Sir, he is your own; and believe me a
good
one, sixteen inches long I warrant him: I have taken none such this
year. VIAT. I
never saw a
Grayling before look so black. PISC. Did
you not?
Why then, let me tell you, that you never saw one before in right
season; for
then a Grayling is very black about his head, gills, and down his back;
and has
his belly of a dark gray, dappled with black spots, as you see this is;
and I
am apt to conclude, that from thence he derives his name of Umber,
Though I
must tell you this fish is past his prime, and begins to decline, and
was in
better season at Christmas than he is now. But move on, for it grows
towards
dinner-time; and there is a very great and fine stream below, under
that rock,
that fills the deepest pool in all the river, where you are almost sure
of a
good fish. VIAT. Let
him come,
I'll try a fall with him. But I had thought that the Grayling had been
always
in season with the Trout, and had come in and gone out with him. PISC. O
no! assure
yourself a Grayling is a winter-fish; but such a one as would deceive
any but
such as know him very well in deed; for his flesh, even in his worst
season,
is so firm, and will so easily calver, that in plain truth he is very
good meat
at all times; but in his perfect season, which, by the way, none but an
over
grown Grayling will ever be, I think him so good a fish as to be little
inferior to the best Trout that ever I tasted in my life. VIAT.
Here's
another skip-jack; and I have raised five or six more at least whilst
you were
speaking. Well, go thy way, little Dove! thou art the finest river that
ever I
saw, and the fullest of fish, Indeed, Sir, I like it so well, that I am
afraid
you will be troubled with me once a year, so long as we two live. PISC. I am
afraid I
shall not, Sir; but were you once here a May or a June, if good sport
would
tempt you, I should then expect you would sometimes see me; for you
would then
say it were a fine river indeed, if you had once seen the sport at the
height. VIAT.
Which I will
do, if I live, and that you please to give me leave. There was one; and
there
another. PISC. And
all this
in a strange river, and with a fly of your own making! Why, what a
dangerous
man are you! VIAT. I, Sir, but who taught me? and as Damœtas says by his man Dorus, so you may say by me, —
If my man such praises have,
What then have I, that taught the knave? But what
have we
got here? A rock springing up in the middle of the river! this is one
of the
oddest sights that ever I saw. PISC. Why,
Sir,
from that Pike,* that you see standing up there distant from the rock,
this is
called Pike-Pool. And young Mr. Izaak Walton was so pleased with it, as
to draw
it in landscape in black and white, in a blank book I have at home; as
he has
done several prospects of my house also, which I keep for a memorial of
his
favor, and will show you, when we come up to dinner. VIAT. Has
young
Master Izaak Walton been here too? PISC. Yes,
marry
has he, Sir, and that again, and again too; and in France since, and at
Rome,
and at Venice, and I can't tell where; but I intend to ask him a great
many
hard questions so soon as I can see him, which will be, God willing,
next
month. In the mean time, Sir, to come to this fine stream at the head
of this
great pool, you must venture over these slippery, cobbling stones.
Believe me,
Sir, there you were nimble, or else you had been down! But now you are
got
over, look to yourself; for, on my word, if a fish rise here, he is
like to be
such a one as will endanger your tackle. How now! VIAT. I
think you
have such command here over the fishes, that you can raise them by your
word,
as they say conjurors can do spirits, and afterward make them do what
you bid
them; for here's a Trout has taken my fly; I had rather have lost a
crown. What
luck's this! He was a lovely fish, and turned up a side like a salmon! PISC. O
Sir, this
is a war where you sometimes win, and must sometimes expect to lose.
Never
concern yourself for the loss of your fly; for ten to one I teach you
to make a
better. Who's that calls? SERVANT.
Sir, will
it please you to come to dinner? PISC. We
come. You
hear, Sir, we are called; and now take your choice, whether you will
climb this
steep hill before you, from the top of which you will go directly into
the
house, or back again over these stepping-stones, and about by the
bridge. VIAT. Nay,
sure the
nearest way is best; at least my stomach tells me so; and I am now so
well
acquainted with your rocks, that I fear them not. PISC.
Come, then,
follow me; and so soon as we have dined, we will down again to the
little
house, where I will begin at the place I left off about fly-fishing,
and read
you another lecture; for I have a great deal more to say upon that
subject. VIAT. The
more the
better; I could never have met with a more obliging master, my first
excepted;
nor such sport can all the rivers about London ever afford as is to be
found in
this pretty river. PISC. You deserve to have better, both because I see you are willing to take pains, and for liking this little so well; and better I hope to show you before we part. ____________________*'Tis a
rock in the
fashion of a spire-steeple, and almost as big. It stands in the midst
of the
river Dove, and not far from Mr. Cotton's house; below which place this
delicate river takes a swift career betwixt many mighty rocks, much
higher and
bigger than St. Paul's Church, before 't was burnt. And this Dove,
being
opposed by one of the highest of them, has at last forced itself a way
through
it; and, after a mile's concealment, appears again with more glory and
beauty
than before that opposition, running through the most pleasant valleys
and most
fruitful meadows that this nation can justly boast of. CHAPTER VII VIATOR.
Come, Sir!
having now well dined, and being again set in your little house, I will
now
challenge your promise, and entreat you to proceed in your instruction
for
Fly-fishing; which, that you may be the better encouraged to do, I will
assure
you that I have not lost, I think, one syllable of what you have told
me; but
very well retain all your directions both for the rod, line, and making
a fly,
and now desire an account of the flies themselves. PISC. Why,
Sir, I
am ready to give it you, and shall have the whole afternoon to do it
in, if
nobody come in to interrupt us; for you must know, besides the
unfitness of the
day, that the after noons so early in March signify very little to
angling
with a fly; though with a minnow, or a worm, something might, I
confess, be
done. To begin then where I left off. My Father Walton tells us but of twelve artificial-flies, to angle with at the top, and gives their names: of which some are common with us here; and I think I guess at most of them by his description, and I believe they all breed, and are taken in our rivers, though we do not make them either of the same dubbing, or fashion. And it may be in the rivers about London, which I presume he has most frequented, and where 'tis likely he has done most execution, there is not much notice taken of many more; but we are acquainted with several others here, though, perhaps, I may reckon some of his by other names too; but if I do, I shall make you amends by an addition to his catalogue. And although the forenamed great Master in the art of Angling, for so in truth he is, tells you that no man should in honesty catch a Trout till the middle of March, yet I hope he will give a man leave sooner to take a Grayling; which, as I told you, is in the dead months in his best season; and do assure you, which I remember by a very remarkable token, I did once take upon the sixth day of December one, and only one, of the biggest Graylings, and the best in season, that ever I yet saw, or tasted; and do usually take Trouts too, and with a fly, not only before the middle of this month, but almost every year in February, unless it be a very ill spring indeed; and have sometimes in January, so early as New Year's-tide, and in frost and snow, taken Grayling in a warm sun shine day for an hour or two about noon; and to fish for him with a grub it is then the best time of all. I shall
therefore
begin my fly-fishing with that month (though I confess very few begin
so soon,
and that such as are so fond of the sport as to embrace all
opportunities, can
rarely in that month find a day fit for their purpose), and tell you
that, upon
my knowl edge, these flies in a warm sun, for an hour or 'two in the
day, are
certainly taken.
JANUARY
1. A RED
BROWN,
with wings of the male of a mallard, almost white; the dubbing, of the
tail of
a black long-coated cur, such as they commonly make muffs of; for the
hair on
the tail of such a dog dyes and turns to a red brown, but the hair of a
smooth-coated dog of the same color will not do, because it will not
dye, but
retains its natural color. And this fly is taken, in a warm sun, this
whole
month through. 2. There
is also a
very little BRIGHT-DUN GNAT, as little as can possibly be made, so
little as
never to be fished with, with above one hair next the hook: and this is
to be
made of a mixed dubbing of marten's fur, and the white of a
hare's-scut; with a
very white and small wing. And 'tis no great matter how fine you fish,
for
nothing will rise in this month but a Grayling; and of them I never, at
this
season, saw any taken with a fly, of above a foot long, in my life; but
of
little ones, about the bigness of a smelt, in a warm day and a glowing
sun, you
may take enough with these two flies; and they are both taken the whole
month
through.
FEBRUARY
1. WHERE
the RED
BROWN of the last month ends, another, almost of the same color, begins
with
this; saving, that the dubbing of this must be of something a blacker
color,
and both of them warpt on with red silk. The dubbing that should make
this fly,
and that is the truest color, is to be got off the black spot of a
hog's ear:
not that a black spot in any part of the hog will not afford the same
color,
but that the hair in that place is by many degrees softer, and more fit
for the
purpose: his wing must be as the other; and this kills all this month,
and is
called the LESSER RED-BROWN. 2. This
month also
a PLAIN HACKLE, or Palmer-fly, made with a rough black body, either of
black
spaniel's fur, or the whirl of an ostrich-feather, and the red hackle
of a
capon over all, will kill; and, if the weather be right, make very good
sport. 3. Also a
LESSER
HACKLE with a black body also, silver-twist over that, and a red
feather over
all, will fill your pannier, if the month be open, and not bound up in
ice, and
snow, with very good fish; but in case of a frost and snow, you are to
angle
only with the smallest gnats, browns, and duns, you can make; and with
those
are only to expect Graylings no bigger than sprats. 4. In this
month,
upon a whirling round water, we have a GREAT HACKLE; the body black,
and
wrapped with a red feather of a capon untrimmed; that is, the whole
length of
the hackle staring out (for we sometimes barb the Hackle-feather short
all
over, sometimes barb it only a little, and sometimes barb it close
underneath);
leaving the whole length of the feather on the top or back of the fly,
which
makes it swim better, and, as occasion serves, kills very great fish. 5. We make
use
also, in this month, of another GREAT HACKLE; the body black, and
ribbed over
with gold twist, and a red feather over all; which also does great
execution. 6. Also a
GREAT
DUN, made with dun bear's hair, and the wings of the gray feather of a
mallard
near unto his tail; which is absolutely the best fly can be thrown
upon a
river this month, and with which an angler shall have admirable sport. 7. We have
also
this month the GREAT BLUE DUN; the dubbing of the bottom of bear's hair
next to
the roots, mixed with a little blue camlet; the wings of the dark gray
feather
of a mallard. 8. We have
also
this month a DARK BROWN; the dubbing of a brown hair off the flank of a
brended
cow, and the wings of the gray drake's feather. And note,
that
these several Hackles, or Palmer-flies, are some for one water and one
sky, and
some for another; and, according to the change of those, we alter their
size
and color. And note also, that both in this, and all other months of
the year,
when you do not certainly know what fly is taken, or cannot see any
fish to
rise, you are then to put on a small Hackle, if the water be clear, or
a bigger,
if something dark, until you have taken one; and then, thrusting your
finger
through his gills, to pull out his gorge, which being opened with your
knife,
you will then discover what fly is taken, and may fit yourself
accordingly. For the
making of a
Hackle, or Palmer-fly, my Father Walton has already given you
sufficient
direction.
MARCH
FOR this
month you
are to use all the same Hackles, and flies with the other; but you are
to make
them less. 1. We have
besides
for this month, a little Dun called a WHIRLING-DUN, though it is not
the
Whirling-Dun indeed, which is one of the best flies we have; and for
this the
dubbing must be of the bottom fur of a squirrel's tail, and the wing of
the
gray feather of a drake. 2. Also a
BRIGHT
BROWN; the dubbing either of the brown of a spaniel, or that of a cow's
flank,
with a gray wing. 3. Also a
WHITISH
DUN, made of the roots of camel's hair, and the wings of the gray
feather of a
mallard. 4. There
is also
for this month a fly, called the THORN-TREE FLY; the dubbing an
absolute black,
mixed with eight or ten hairs of Isabella-colored mohair, the body as
little as
can be made, and the wings of a bright mallard's feather: an admirable
fly, and
in great repute amongst us for a killer. 5. There
is, beside
this, another BLUE DUN, the dubbing of which it is made being thus to
be got.
Take a small-tooth comb, and with it comb the neck of a black
greyhound, and
the down that sticks in the teeth will be the finest blue that ever you
saw.
The wings of this fly can hardly be too white; and he is taken about
the tenth
of this month, and lasteth till the four-and-twentieth. 6. From
the tenth
of this month also, till towards the end, is taken a little BLACK GNAT:
the
dubbing either of the fur of a black water-dog, or the down of a young
black
water-coot; the wings of the male of a mallard, as white as may be; the
body as
little as you can possibly make it, and the wings as short as his body.
7. From
the
sixteenth of this month also, to the end of it, we use a BRIGHT BROWN;
the
dubbing for which is to be had out of a skinner's lime-pits, and of the
hair of
an abortive calf, which the lime will turn to be so bright as to shine
like
gold; for the wings of this fly, the feather of a brown hen is best;
which fly
is also taken till the tenth of April. APRIL
ALL the
same
Hackles and flies that were taken in March will be taken in this month
also;
with this distinction only concerning the flies, that all the browns be
lapped
with red silk, and the duns with yellow. 1. To these a SMALL BRIGHT
BROWN, made
of spaniel's fur, with a light gray wing, in a bright day and a clear
water, is
very well taken. 2. We have
too a
little DARK BROWN; the dubbing of that color, and some violet camlet
mixed, and
the wing of a gray feather of a mallard. 3. From
the sixth
of this month to the tenth, we have also a fly called the VIOLET-FLY;
made of a
dark violet stuff, with the wings of the gray feather of a mallard. 4. About
the
twelfth of this month comes in the fly called the WHIRLING-DUN, which
is taken
every day, about the mid-time of day, all this month through, and by
fits from
thence to the end of June; and is commonly made of the down of a
fox-cub, which
is of an ash color at the roots, next the skin, and ribbed about with
yellow
silk; the wings of the pale gray feather of a mallard. 5. There
is also a
YELLOW DUN; the dubbing of camel's hair, and yellow camlet or wool,
mixed, and
a white-gray wing. 6. There
is also,
this month, another LITTLE BROWN, besides that mentioned before; made
with a
very slender body, the dubbing of dark brown, and violet camlet mixed,
and a
gray wing; which, though the direction for the making be near the
other, is yet
an other fly; and will take when the other will not, especially in a
bright
day, and a clear water. 7. About
the
twentieth of this month comes in a fly called the HORSE-FLESH FLY; the
dubbing
of which is a blue mohair, with pink-colored and red tammy mixed, a
light-colored wing, and a dark brown head. This fly is taken best in an
evening, and kills from two hours before sunset till twilight; and is
taken the
month through. MAY
AND now,
Sir, that
we are entering into the month of May, I think it requisite to beg not
only
your attention, but also your best patience; for I must now be a little
tedious
with you, and dwell upon this month longer than ordinary; which that
you may
the better endure, I must tell you, this month deserves and requires to
be
insisted on, forasmuch as it alone, and the next following, afford more
pleasure to the Fly-Angler than all the rest. And here it is that you
are to
expect an account of the Green-Drake, and Stone-fly, promised you so
long ago,
and some others that are peculiar to this month, and part of the month
following; and that, though not so great either in bulk or name, do yet
stand
in competition with the two before named; and so, that it is yet
undecided,
amongst the anglers, to which of the pretenders to the title of the
May-fly it
does properly and duly belong. Neither dare I, where so many of the
learned in
this art of Angling are got in dispute about the controversy, take upon
me to
determine; but I think I ought to have a vote amongst them, and
according to
that privilege shall give you my free opinion; and peradventure when I
have
told you all, you may incline to think me in the right. VIAT. I
have so
great a deference to your judgment in these matters, that I must always
be of
your opinion; and the more you speak, the faster I grow to my
attention, for I
can never be weary of hearing you upon this subject. PISC. Why
that's
encouragement enough; and now prepare yourself for a tedious lecture;
but I
will first begin with the flies of less esteem, — though almost
anything will
take a Trout in May, — that I may afterwards insist the longer upon
those of
greater note and reputation. Know, therefore, that the first fly we
take notice
of in this month, is called 1. The TURKEY-FLY; dubbing ravelled out of
some
blue stuff, and lapped about with yellow silk; the wings of a gray
mallard's
feather. 2. Next a
GREAT
HACKLE Or PALMER-FLY, With a YELLOW BODY; ribbed with gold twist, and
large
wings of a mallard's feather dyed yellow, with a red capon's hackle
over all. 3. Then a
BLACK
FLY; the dubbing of a black spaniel's fur, and the wings of a gray
mallard's
feather. 4. After
that a
LIGHT BROWN, with a slender body; the dubbing twirled upon small red
silk, and
raised with the point of a needle, that the ribs or rows of silk may
appear
through; the wings of the gray feather of a mallard. 5. Next a
LITTLE
DUN; the dubbing of a bear's dun whirled upon yellow silk, the wings of
the
gray feather of a mallard. 6. Then a
WHITE
GNAT, with a pale wing, and a black head. 7. There is also this month a fly called the PEACOCK-FLY; the body made of a whirl of a peacock's feather, with a red head, and wings of a mallard's feather. 8. We have
then
another very killing fly, known by the name of the DUN-CUT; the dubbing
of
which is a bear's dun, with a little blue and yellow mixed with it, a
large dun
wing, and two horns at the head, made of the hairs of a squirrel's
tail. 9. The
next is the
COW-LADY, a little fly; the body of a peacock's feather, the wing of a
red
feather, or strips of the red hackle of a cock. 10. We
have then
the COW-DUNG FLY; the dubbing light-brown and yellow mixed, the wing
the dark
gray feather of a mallard. And note, that besides these above
mentioned, all
the same Hackles and flies, the Hackles only brighter, and the flies
smaller,
that are taken in April, will also be taken this month, as also all
Browns and
Duns. And now I come to my Stone-Fly, and Green-Drake, which are the
Matadores
for Trout and Grayling; and, in their season, kill more fish in our
Deryshire
rivers than all the rest, past and to come, in the whole year besides. But first
I am to
tell you, that we have four several flies which contend for the title
of the
May-fly: namely, The STONE-FLY, The LITTLE YELLOW MAY-FLY. And all
these have
their champions and advocates to dispute, and plead their priority;
though I do
not understand why the two last named should, the first two having so
manifestly the advantage, both in their beauty, and the wonderful
execution
they do in their season. 11. Of
these, the
GREEN-DRAKE comes in about the twentieth of this month, or betwixt that
and the
latter end, for they are sometimes sooner, and sometimes later,
according to
the quality of the year; but never well taken till towards the end of
this
month, and the beginning of June. The STONE-FLY comes much sooner, so
early as
the middle of April; but is never well taken till towards the middle of
May,
and continues to kill much longer than the Green-Drake stays with us, —
so long
as to the end almost of June; and indeed, so long as there are any of
them to
be seen upon the water; and sometimes in an artificial fly, and late at
night,
or before sunrise in a morning, longer. Now both
these
flies, and, I believe, many others, though I think not all, are
certainly and
demonstratively bred in the very rivers where they are taken: our Cadis
or
Cod-bait, which lie under stones in the bottom of the water, most of
them
turning into those two flies; and, being gathered in the husk, or
crust, near
the time of their maturity, are very easily known and distinguished;
and are of
all other the most remarkable, both for their size, as being of all
other the
biggest, the shortest of them being a full inch long, or more, and for
the
execution they do, the Trout and Grayling being much more greedy of
them than
of any others; and indeed, the Trout never feeds fat, nor comes into
his
perfect season, till these flies come in. Of these,
the
Green-Drake never discloses from his husk, till he be first there grown
to full
maturity, body, wings, and all; and then he creeps out of his cell, but
with
his wings so crimped and ruffled, by being pressed together in that
narrow
room, that they are, for some hours, totally useless to him; by which
means he
is compelled either to creep upon the flags, sedges, and blades of
grass, if
his first rising from the bottom of the water be near the banks of the
river,
till the air and sun stiffen and smooth them; or, if his first
appearance above
water happen to be in the middle, he then lies upon the surface of the
water
like a ship at hull; for his feet are totally useless to him there, and
he
cannot creep upon the water as the Stone-fly can, until his wings have
got
stiffness to fly with, if by some Trout or Grayling he be not taken in
the
interim, which ten to one he is; and then his wings stand high, and
closed
exact upon his back, like the butterfly, and his motion in flying is
the same.
His body is, in some, of a paler, in others, of a darker yellow, for
they are
not all exactly of a color; ribbed with rows of green, long, slender,
and
growing sharp towards the tail, at the end of which he has three long
small
whisks of a very dark color, almost black, and his tail turns up
towards his
back like a mallard; from whence, questionless, he has his name of the
Green-Drake. These, as I think I told you before, we commonly dape or
dibble
with; and, having gathered great store of them into a long draw-box,
with holes
in the cover to give them air, where also they will continue fresh and
vigorous
a night or more, we take them out thence by the wings, and bait them
thus upon
the hook. We first take one, for we commonly fish with two of them at a
time,
and, putting the point of the hook into the thickest part of his body
under one
of his wings, run it directly through, and out at the other side,
leaving him
spitted cross upon the hook; and then taking the other, put him on
after the
same manner, but with his head the contrary way; in which posture they
will
live upon the hook, and play with their wings for a quarter of an hour,
or
more; but you must have a care to keep their wings dry, both from the
water,
and also that your fingers be not wet when you take them out to bait
them; for
then your bait is spoiled. Having now
told you
how to angle with this fly alive, I am now to tell you next, how to
make an
artificial-fly, that will so perfectly resemble him, as to be taken in
a rough
windy day when no flies can lie upon the water, nor are to be found
about the
banks and sides of the river, to a wonder; and with which you shall
certainly
kill the best Trout and Grayling in the river. The
artificial
Green-Drake, then, is made upon a large hook; the dubbing, camel's
hair, bright
bear's hair, the soft down that is combed from a hog's bristles and
yellow
camlet, well mixed together; the body long, and ribbed about with
green silk,
or rather yellow, waxed with green wax, the whisks of the tail, of the
long
hairs of sables, or fitchet, and the wings of the white-gray feather of
a
mallard, dyed yellow; which also is to be dyed thus. Take the
root of a
Barbary-tree, and shave it, and put to it woody viss, with as much alum
as a
walnut, and boil your feathers in it with rain-water; and they will be
of a
very fine yellow. I have now done with the Green-Drake; excepting to tell you, that he is taken at all hours during his season, whilst there is any day upon the sky; and with a made-fly I once took, ten days after he was absolutely gone, in a cloudy day, after a shower, and in a whistling wind, five and thirty very great Trouts and Graylings, betwixt five and eight of the clock in the evening; and had no less than five or six flies, with three good hairs apiece, taken from me in despite of my heart, besides. 12. I
should now
come next to the Stone-fly, but there is another gentleman in my way,
that must
of necessity come in between; and that is the GRAY-DRAKE, which, in all
shapes
and dimensions, is perfectly the same with the other, but quite almost
of
another color; being of a paler and more livid yellow and green, and
ribbed
with black quite down his body, with black, shining wings, and so
diaphanous and
tender, cobweb-like, that they are of no manner of use for daping, but
come in
and are taken after the Green-Drake, and in an artificial fly kill very
well;
which fly is thus made: the dubbing of the down of a hog's bristles,
and black
spaniel's fur, mixed, and ribbed down the body with black silk, the
whisks of
the hairs of the beard of a black cat, and the wings of the black-gray
feather
of a mallard. And now I
come to
the STONE-FLY, but am afraid I have already wearied your patience;
which if I
have I beseech you freely tell me so, and I will defer the remaining
instructions for Fly-Angling till some other time. VIAT. No,
truly,
Sir, I can never be weary of hearing you. But if you think fit, because
I am
afraid I am too troublesome, to refresh yourself with a glass and a
pipe: you
may afterwards proceed, and I shall be exceedingly pleased to hear you.
PISC. I
thank you,
Sir, for that motion; for, believe me, I am dry with talking, Here,
Boy! give
us here a bottle, and a glass; and, Sir, my service to you, and to all
our
friends in the South. VIAT. Your
servant,
Sir, and I'll pledge you as heartily; for the good powdered beef I eat
at
dinner, or something else, has made me thirsty. CHAPTER VIII VIATOR.
So, Sir, I
am now ready for another lesson, so soon Vas you please to give it me. PISC. And
I, Sir,
as ready to give you the best I can. Having told you the time of the
Stone-fly's coming in, and that he is bred of a cadis in the very river
where
he is taken, I am next to tell you, that, 13. This
same
STONE-FLY has not the patience to continue in his crust, or husk, till
his
wings be full grown; but so soon as ever they begin to put out, that he
feels
himself strong (at which time we call him a Jack), squeezes himself out
of
prison, and crawls to the top of some stone; where, if he can find a
chink that
will receive him, or can creep betwixt two stones, the one lying hollow
upon
the other (which, by the way, we also lay so purposely to find them),
he there
lurks till his wings be full grown, and there is your only place to
find him;
and from thence doubtless he derives his name: — though, for want of
such
convenience, he will make shift with the hollow of a bank, or any other
place
where the wind cannot come to fetch him off. His body is long, and
pretty
thick, and as broad at the tail, almost, as in the middle: his color a
very
fine brown, ribbed with yellow, and much yellower on the belly than the
back:
he has two or three whisks also at the tag of his tail, and two little
horns
upon his head: his wings, when full grown, are double, and flat down
his back,
of the same color but rather darker than his body, and longer than it;
though
he makes but little use of them, for you shall rarely see him flying,
though
often swimming and paddling, with several feet he has under his belly,
upon the
water, without stirring a wing. But the Drake will mount steeple-high
into the
air; though he is to be found upon flags and grass too, and, indeed,
everywhere
high and low near the river; there being so many of them in their
season, as,
were they not a very inoffensive insect, would look like a plague: and
these
Drakes (since I forgot to tell you before, I will tell you here) are
taken by
the fish to that incredible degree, that, upon a calm day, you shall
see the
still-deeps continually all over circles by the fishes rising, who will
gorge
themselves with those flies, till they purge again out of their gills:
and the
Trouts are at that time so lusty and strong, that one of eight or ten
inches
long will then more struggle and tug, and more endanger your tackle,
than one
twice as big in winter: but pardon this digression. This
Stone-Fly,
then, we dape or dibble with, as with the Drake, but with this
difference: that
whereas the Green-Drake is common both to stream and still, and to all
hours of
the day, we seldom dape with this but in the streams, for in a
whistling wind a
made-fly in the deep is better, — and rarely but early and late, it not
being
so proper for the mid-time of the day; though a great Grayling will
then take
it very well in a sharp stream, and here and there a Trout too, but
much better
towards eight, nine, ten, or eleven of the clock at night, at which
time also
the best fish rise, and the later the better, provided you can see your
fly;
and when you cannot, a made-fly will murder, which is to be made thus:
the
dubbing of bear's dun with a little brown and yellow camlet very well
mixed;
but so placed, that your fly may be more yellow on the belly and
towards the
tail underneath than in any other part; and you are to place two or
three hairs
of a black cat's beard on the top of the hook, in your arming, so as to
be
turned up, when you warp on your dubbing, and to stand almost upright,
and
staring one from another: and note that your fly is to be ribbed with
yellow
silk; and the wings long, and very large, of the dark gray feather of a
mallard. 14. The
next
May-fly is the BLACK-FLY; made with a black body, of the whirl of an
ostrich-feather, ribbed with silver-twist, and the black hackle of a
cock over
all; and is a killing fly, but not to be named with either of the
other. 15. The
last
May-fly, that is of the four pretenders, is the LITTLE YELLOW MAY-FLY;
in shape
exactly the same with the Green-Drake, but a very little one, and of as
bright
a yellow as can be seen; which is made of a bright yellow camlet, and
the wings
of a white-gray feather dyed yellow, 16. The
last fly
for this month, and which continues all June, though it comes in in the
middle
of May, is the fly called the CAMLET-FLY; in shape like a moth, with
fine
diapered, or water-wings, and with which, as I told you before, I
sometimes
used to dibble; and Grayling will rise mightily at it. But the
artificial fly,
which is only in use amongst our Anglers, is made of a dark-brown
shining
camlet, ribbed over with a very small light-green silk, the wings of
the
double-gray feather of a mallard; and 'tis a killing fly for small
fish. And so
much for May. JUNE
FROM the
first to
the four-and-twentieth, the Green-Drake and Stone-fly are taken, as I
told you before.
1. From
the twelfth
to the four-and-twentieth, late at night, is taken a fly, called the
OWL-FLY,
the dubbing of a white weasel's tail, and a white-gray wing. 2. We have
then
another Dun, called the BARM-FLY, from its yeasty color; the dubbing of
the fur
of a yellow-dun cat, and a gray wing of a mallard's feather. 3. We have
also a
HACKLE with a purple body, whipped about with a red capon's feather. 4. As also
a
GOLD-TWIST HACKLE with a purple body, whipped about with a red capon's
feather.
5. To
these we
have, this month, a FLESH-FLY; the dubbing of a black spaniel's fur,
and blue
wool mixed, and a gray wing. 6. Also
another
LITTLE FLESH-FLY; the body made of the whirl of a peacock's feather,
and the
wings of the gray feather of a drake. 7. We have
then the
PEACOCK-FLY; the body and wing both made of the feather of that bird. 8. There
is also
the Flying-Ant, or ANT-FLY; the dubbing of brown and red camlet mixed,
with a
light gray wing. 9. We have
likewise
a BROWN GNAT; with a very slender body of brown and violet camlet well
mixed,
and a light gray wing. 10. And
another
little BLACK GNAT; the dubbing of black mo hair, and a white-gray
wing. 11. As
also a GREEN
GRASSHOPPER; the dubbing of green and yellow wool mixed, ribbed over
with green
silk, and a red capon's feather over all. 12. And
lastly, a
little DUN GRASSHOPPER; the body slender, made of a dun camlet, and a
dun
hackle at the top. JULY
FIRST, all
the
small flies that were taken in June are also taken in this month. 1. We have
then the
ORANGE-FLY; the dubbing of orange wool, and the wings of a black
feather. 2. Also a
little
WHITE DUN; the body made of white mohair, and the wings blue, of a
heron's
feather. 3. We have
likewise
this month a WASP-FLY; made either of a dark brown dubbing, or else the
fur of
a black cat's tail, ribbed about with yellow silk, and the wing of the
gray
feather of a mallard. 4. Another
fly
taken this month is a BLACK-HACKLE; the body made of the whirl of a
peacock's
feather, and a black hackle-feather on the top. 5. We have
also
another, made of a peacock's whirl without wings. 6. Another
fly also
is taken this month, called the SHELL-FLY; the dubbing of yellow-green
Jersey-wool, and a little white hog's hair mixed, which I call the
Palm-fly:
and do believe it is taken for a palm, that drops off the willows into
the
water; for this fly I have seen Trouts take little pieces of moss, as
they have
swam down the river; by which I conclude that the best way to hit the
right
color is to compare your dubbing with the moss, and mix the colors as
near as
you can. 7. There is also taken this month, a BLACK-BLUE DUN; the dubbing of the fur of a black rabbit mixed with a little yellow, the wings of the feather of a blue pigeon's wing. AUGUST
THE same
flies with July. 1. Then
another
ANT-FLY; the dubbing of the black-brown hair of a cow, some red warped
in for
the tag of his tail, and a dark wing. A killing fly. 2. Next a
fly
called a FERN-FLY; the dubbing of the fur of a hare's neck, that is, of
the
color of fern or bracken, with a darkish-gray wing of a mallard's
feather. A
killer too. 3. Besides
these we
have a WHITE HACKLE; the body of white mohair, and warped about with a
white
hackle-feather; and this is assuredly taken for thistle-down. 4. We have
also
this month a HARRY-LONG-LEGS; the body made of bear's dun and blue wool
mixed,
and a brown hackle-feather over all. Lastly, In
this
month all the same browns and duns are taken that were taken in May. SEPTEMBER
THIS month
the same
flies are taken that are taken in April. 1. To
which I shall
only add a CAMEL-BROWN FLY; the dubbing pulled out of the lime of a
wall,
whipped about with red silk, and a darkish-gray mallard's feather for
the wing.
2. And one
other,
for which we have no name, but it is made of the black hair of a
badger's skin,
mixed with the yellow softest down of a sanded hog. OCTOBER
THE same
flies are
taken this month that were taken in March. NOVEMBER
THE same
flies that
were taken in February are taken this month also. DECEMBER
FEW men
angle with
the fly this month, no more than they do in January; but yet, if the
weather be
warm, — as I have known it sometimes in my life to be, even in this
cold
country, where it is least expected, — then a brown that looks red in
the hand,
and yellowish betwixt your eye and the sun, will both raise and kill in
a clear
water, and free from snow-broth; but, at the best, 'tis hardly worth a
man's
labor. And now,
Sir, I
have done with Fly-fishing, or angling at the top; excepting once more
to tell
you, that of all these, — and I have named you a great many very
killing flies,
— none are fit to be compared with the Drake and Stone-Fly, both for
many and
very great fish. And yet there are some days that are by no means
proper for
the sport; and in a calm you shall not have near so much sport, even
with
daping, as in a whistling gale of wind, for two reasons, both because
you are
not then so easily discovered by the fish, and also because there are
then but
few flies that can lie upon the water; for where they have so much
choice, you
may easily imagine they will not be so eager and forward to rise at a
bait,
that both the shadow of your body, and that of your rod, nay, of your
very
line, in a hot, calm day, will, in spite of your best caution, render
suspected
to them; but even then, in swift streams, or by sitting down patiently
behind a
willow-bush, you shall do more execution than at almost any other time
of the
year with any other fly; though one may sometimes hit of a day, when he
shall
come home very well satisfied with sport with several other flies. But
with
these two, the Green-Drake and the Stone-Fly, I do verily believe I
could, some
days in my life, had I not been weary of slaughter, have loaden a lusty
boy;
and have sometimes, I do honestly assure you, given over upon the mere
account
of satiety of sport; which will be no hard matter to believe, when I
likewise
assure you that, with this very fly, I have, in this very river that
runs by
us, in three or four hours, taken thirty, five and thirty, and forty of
the
best Trouts in the river. What shame and pity is it, then, that such a
river
should be destroyed by the basest sort of people, by those unlawful
ways of
fire and netting in the night, and of damming, groping, spearing,
hanging, and
hooking by day! which are now grown so common, that, though we have
very good
laws to punish such offenders, every rascal does it, for aught I see,
impunè. To conclude, I cannot now, in honesty, but frankly tell you, that many of these flies I have named, at least so made as we make them here, will peradventure do you no great service in your southern rivers; and will not conceal from you but that I have sent flies to several friends in London, that, for aught I could ever hear, never did any great feats with them; and, therefore, if you intend to profit by my instructions, you must come to angle with me here in the Peak; and so, if you please, let us walk up to supper; and to-morrow, if the day be windy, as our days here commonly are, 'tis ten to one but we shall take a good dish of fish for dinner. |