EDUCATION OF THE SOUTH-COUNTRY TROUT.
SURELY angling with the dry fly can be claimed as the highest branch
of the gentle craft? It cannot be doubted that those who have once
experienced the fascination of "spotting" and stalking a well-fed
and highly-educated south-country trout are bitten for life, and
are, especially at first, rendered somewhat unappreciative of the
sister art. The best fisherman is he who can best adapt himself to
his environment and is ready to adopt the method most likely to be
successful on the water he happens to be fishing. But undoubtedly
dry-fishing labours under one serious disadvantage that does not affect
the wet-fly fisherman, namely, the much dreaded drag, so sadly familiar
to those who fish the rise with the floating fly. Who is there,
however, who has not experienced legitimate pride and pleasure when, by
change of position or by deft casting, its baleful effects have been
overcome and discounted?
It is not given to everyone to command the sleight of hand of a master
and to be able at will to pitch a fly, cocked and floating exactly
right, whilst a bag of the line has been simultaneously sent up stream,
so that for a short few moments whilst passing over the fateful spot
the fly may float truly with the stream, out of the influence of the
more rapid water between the fish and the fisherman. In streams where
wading is allowed the fisherman has undoubtedly an advantage, as he
can get more directly behind the fish, and so avoid the heavy current.
But wading is not always feasible in waters such as those of the lower
Test, where the depth of the stream precludes it. Even then, skill and
local knowledge will often overcome the difficulty, and a fish in such
a position usually falls a ready victim to the fly that floats truly,
as he has been lulled into a sense of false security by his previous
experience that dangerous flies leave a trailing mark behind them. But
what a revelation it is of the education that trout have received, and
how capable they are of absorbing and profiting by it! It seems almost
as if the constant catching and destruction of the freest rising fish
must be having effect in leaving those only to propagate their species
which are either past masters in cunning or which are more coarsely
organised fish, that devote their time and energies to bottom feeding
and avoid surface feeding, except, possibly, at night; the universally
acknowledged fact that fish are far more difficult to catch than they
formerly were may thus be explained. Certainly, nowadays, an angler
would be somewhat out of it who tried to emulate the far-famed Colonel
Hawker, of Long Parish, and to catch the wily trout in that beautiful
stretch of the Test while fishing off a horse's back. Nor could any
modern angler hope or expect to approach the baskets that were formerly
creeled. So is it everywhere. On the beautiful Driffield Beck, in
Yorkshire, a paradise for the dry-fly angler, the club limit of ten
brace of sizeable fish in one day used to be constantly attained, and
that, too, with the wet fly up or even down stream. Now, with split
cane rods, the finest gut, and the deftest of floating duns, five or
six brace is about the best basket obtainable by experienced and most
skilful anglers.
[Illustration: BRINGING HIM DOWN TO THE NET.]
The natural question that perplexes and worries chalk-stream anglers is
whether this "advanced" education of brook and river trout is to go on
increasing. If we can only hope to catch half the amount of fish our
progenitors did, what are the prospects of the next generation? Shall
we have to fall back on black bass or rainbow trout to secure a race
of free-rising fish? Or does the fault lie in over-cutting of weeds
and bad river farming? I am inclined to think it does. Riverside mills
are in an almost hopeless position commercially. The miller requires a
heavier head of water than formerly, and with a decaying industry it is
hard to refuse him, the result being that to maintain his head of water
the weeds are ruthlessly and unscientifically cut over vast stretches
of water, shallows are bared, and the holts or refuges of trout are
done away with, and as a natural consequence trout become less
confiding and far more easily alarmed. Modern agricultural drainage
has, moreover, increased the difficulty by carrying off the water
too rapidly. It behoves votaries of the gentle art to consider most
carefully whether anything can be done to remedy the seriousness of the
future outlook, and to disseminate the results of their inquiry; and if
the Fly Fishers' Club, or some well-known leaders of repute, would take
the matter up and tackle it seriously they would earn the blessings of
the angling world.
It is considered to be undoubtedly a disadvantage in a club water to
include one or two pre-eminently brilliant anglers, as it seems to
breed a fear of their always being able to catch the easy fish, so
that the more difficult ones only are left for the ordinary angler to
attack. Not long ago I was invited to fish a certain well-known beat on
the Itchen, but my host, in inviting me, said, "I don't know if it is
much use, for So-and-So fishes our water, and has caught all the easy
fish." This may be true in a sense, but favourite positions are always
re-taken by other fish if the former occupant is killed. Just as a
house in Grosvenor Square, or some well-known centre of fashion, will
always secure a tenant, so a position where the trend of the current
brings the flies quietly and steadily over a fish will never remain
unoccupied. It is not so much the fish that is easy as his position,
and therefore the ordinary duffer need never despond. One thing is
certain--that the brilliant angler will never scare fish unnecessarily,
and I would rather fish behind such an one than a so-called angler who,
having successfully put his fish down by bad angling, proceeds to stand
upright and possibly walk along the bankside close to the water's edge,
scaring many a fish on his way up, utterly regardless of his brother
anglers. Indeed, in this respect I think the etiquette of angling is
hardly sufficiently considered in these modern days. Who is there that
has not met, on club waters, the ardent and unsuccessful angler who
wanders up and down, covering vast stretches of water, and effectually
scaring many otherwise takeable fish, in the vain hope that he may
find some purblind trout idiotic enough to take his proffered fly? I
consider that unwritten etiquette demands that the utmost care should
be taken by fishermen to do all in their power to prevent spoiling the
sport of those who may be following. I can well recollect a day when
the wind was foul, and there was one stretch of water sheltered on
the windward side by a thick belt of trees, and in this stretch were
located many heavy fish. Working up to that water, I found an ardent
ignoramus doing "sentry-go" up and down the stream, walking on the very
edge of the water. I presume he thought that if he only persevered he
would eventually find the "fool of the family," but the result--the
inevitable result--was that the fish were scared throughout that whole
length for the rest of that day, as that stretch was bare and sadly
lacking in shelter.
In considering the merits and demerits of dry-fly fishing, one
cannot be altogether blind to the fact that down-stream fishing must
inevitably prick and therefore educate many more fish than the floating
fly. This being so, it is still more inexplicable that in former days,
in chalk-stream waters, our forerunners were able to account for far
heavier baskets of trout than we are, despite the heavy restocking
our streams now receive, to their great advantage; and we necessarily
come back to the old point, what can we do to secure an adequacy of
free-rising fish? Is our system of fishing the rise wrong? Or does the
mischief lie more in our river, water, and weed management? And can we
so improve these as to obtain the desired results? Angling is now so
much sought after, chalk-stream and other similar waters command such
high rents, that surely it is worth the while of those interested in
the sport to initiate and carry through some exhaustive inquiry into
the subject.