dragon-fly; for I have often seen these brilliant flies haunting the
water.
HAL.—I never saw a dragon-fly drop on the water, or taken by a fish; and
salmon sometimes rise even in the salt water, where dragon-flies are
never found. There is no difficulty in explaining why salmon in inland
rivers should take flies, where natural flies are abundant; but fish,
when they have lain long in pools in the river and fed on natural flies,
will no longer take these bright flies, and then even a trout-fly is
often most successful. I have sometimes thought that the rising of
salmon and sea trout at these bright flies, as soon as they come from
the sea into rivers, might depend upon a sort of imperfect memory of
their early food and habits; for flies form a great part of the food of
the salmon fry, which, for a month or two after they are hatched, feed
like young trouts—and in March and April the spring flies are their
principal nourishment. In going back to fresh water, they may perhaps
have their habits of feeding recalled to them, and naturally search for
their food at the surface.
POIET.—This appears to me very probable.—But it is late, and we must
return and compare the crimped trout and salmon; and I hope we shall
have another good day to-morrow, for the clouds are red in the west.
PHYS.—I have no doubt of it, for the red has a tint of purple.
HAL.—Do you know why this tint portends fine weather?
PHYS.—The air, when dry, I believe, refracts more red, or heat-making,
rays; and as dry air is not perfectly transparent, they are again
reflected in the horizon. I have generally observed a coppery or yellow
sunset to foretel rain; but, as an indication of wet weather
approaching, nothing is more certain than a halo round the moon, which
is produced by the precipitated water; and the larger the circle, the
nearer the clouds, and consequently the more ready to fall.
HAL.—I have often observed, that the old proverb is correct—
A rainbow in the morning is the shepherd’s warning:
A rainbow at night is the shepherd’s delight.
Can you explain this omen?
PHYS.—A rainbow can only occur when the clouds containing, or
depositing, the rain are opposite to the sun,—and in the evening the
rainbow is in the east, and in the morning in the west; and as our heavy
rains, in this climate, are usually brought by the westerly wind, a
rainbow in the west indicates, that the bad weather is on the road, by
the wind, to us; whereas the rainbow in the east proves, that the rain
in these clouds is passing from us.
POIET.—I have often observed, that when the swallows fly high, fine
weather is to be expected or continued; but when they fly low, and close
to the ground, rain is almost surely approaching. Can you account for
this?
HAL.—Swallows follow the flies and gnats, and flies and gnats usually
delight in warm strata of air; and as warm air is lighter, and usually
moister, than cold air, when the warm strata of air are high, there is
less chance of moisture being thrown down from them by the mixture with
cold air; but when the warm and moist air is close to the surface, it is
almost certain, that, as the cold air flows down into it, a deposition
of water will take place.
POIET.—I have often seen sea-gulls assemble on the land, and have almost
always observed, that very stormy and rainy weather was approaching. I
conclude, that these animals, sensible of a current of air approaching
from the ocean, retire to the land to shelter themselves from the storm.
ORN.—No such thing. The storm is their element; and the little petrel
enjoys the heaviest gale, because, living on the smaller sea insects, he
is sure to find his food in the spray of a heavy wave—and you may see
him flitting above the edge of the highest surge. I believe, that the
reason of this migration of seagulls, and other sea birds, to the land,
is their security of finding food. They may be observed, at this time,
feeding greedily on the earth worms and larvæ, driven out of the ground
by severe floods; and the fish, on which they prey in fine weather in
the sea, leave the surface, when storms prevail and go deeper. The
search after food, as we agreed on a former occasion, is the principal
cause why animals change their places. The different tribes of the
wading birds always migrate when rain is about to take place; and I
remember once, in Italy, having been long waiting, in the end of March,
for the arrival of the double snipe in the Campagna of Rome,—a great
flight appeared on the 3d of April, and the day after heavy rain set in,
which greatly interfered with my sport. The vulture, upon the same
principle, follows armies; and I have no doubt, that the augury of the
ancients was a good deal founded upon the observation of the instincts
of birds. There are many superstitions of the vulgar owing to the same
source. For anglers, in spring, it is always unlucky to see single
magpies,—but _two_ may be always regarded as a favourable omen; and the
reason is, that in cold and stormy weather one magpie alone leaves the
nest in search of food, the other remaining sitting upon the eggs or the
young ones; but when two go out together, the weather is warm and mild,
and thus favourable for fishing.
POIET.—The singular connexions of causes and effects, to which you have
just referred, make superstition less to be wondered at, particularly
amongst the vulgar; and when two facts, naturally unconnected, have been
accidentally coincident, it is not singular that this coincidence should
have been observed and registered, and that omens of the most absurd
kind should be trusted in. In the west of England, half a century ago, a
particular hollow noise on the sea coast was referred to a spirit or
goblin, called Bucca, and was supposed to foretel a shipwreck: the
philosopher knows, that sound travels much faster than currents in the
air—and the sound always foretold the approach of a very heavy storm,
which seldom takes place on that wild and rocky coast, surrounded as it
is by the Atlantic, without a shipwreck on some part of its extensive
shores.
PHYS.—All the instances of omens you have mentioned are founded on
reason; but how can you explain such absurdities as Friday being an
unlucky day, the terror of spilling salt, or meeting an old woman? I
knew a man, of very high dignity, who was exceedingly moved by these
omens, and who never went out shooting without a bittern’s claw fastened
to his buttonhole by a ribband—which he thought ensured him good luck.
POIET.—These, as well as the omens of death watches, dreams, &c., are
for the most part founded upon some accidental coincidences; but
spilling of salt, on an uncommon occasion, may, as I have known it,
arise from a disposition to apoplexy, shown by an incipient numbness in
the hand, and may be a fatal symptom; and persons, dispirited by bad
omens, sometimes prepare the way for evil fortune; for confidence in
success is a great means of ensuring it. The dream of Brutus, before the
field of Philippi, probably produced a species of irresolution and
despondency, which was the principal cause of his losing the battle: and
I have heard, that the illustrious sportsman, to whom you referred just
now, was always observed to shoot ill, because he shot carelessly, after
one of his dispiriting omens.
HAL.—I have in life met with a few things, which I found it impossible
to explain, either by chance coincidences or by natural connexions; and
I have known minds of a very superior class affected by them,—persons in
the habit of reasoning deeply and profoundly.
PHYS.—In my opinion, profound minds are the most likely to think lightly
of the resources of human reason: it is the pert, superficial thinker
who is generally strongest in every kind of unbelief. The deep
philosopher sees chains of causes and effects so wonderfully and
strangely linked together, that he is usually the last person to decide
upon the impossibility of any two series of events being independent of
each other; and in science, so many natural miracles, as it were, have
been brought to light,—such as the fall of stones from meteors in the
atmosphere, the disarming a thunder cloud by a metallic point, the
production of fire from ice by a metal white as silver, and referring
certain laws of motion of the sea to the moon,—that the physical
inquirer is seldom disposed to assert, confidently, on any abstruse
subjects belonging to the order of natural things, and still less so on
those relating to the more mysterious relations of moral events and
intellectual natures.
SEVENTH DAY.
HALIEUS—POIETES—ORNITHER—PHYSICUS.
GRAYLING FISHING.
_Scene—Leintwardine, near Ludlow._
_Time—Beginning of October._
HAL.—YOU have reached your quarters. Here is your home—a rural,
peaceable, and unassuming inn, with as worthy a host and hostess as may
be found in this part of the country. The river glides at the bottom of
the garden, and there is no stream in England more productive of
grayling. The surrounding scenery is not devoid of interest, and the
grounds in the distance are covered with stately woods, and laid out (or
rather their natural beauties developed) by the hand of a master, whose
liberal and enlightened mind even condescended to regard the amusements
of the angler; and he could hardly have contributed in a more effectual
manner to their comforts, than by placing the good people, who were once
his servants, in this comfortable inn.
PHYS.—Are we to fish according to any rule, as to quantity or size of
fish?
HAL.—You are at perfect liberty to fish as you like; but as it is
possible you may catch grayling only of this year, and which are not
longer than the hand, I conclude you will return such pigmies to the
river, as a matter of propriety, though not of necessity.
POIET.—This river seems formed of two other streams, which join above
our inn. What are the names of its sources?
HAL.—The small river to the left is called the Teme, or Little Teme, and
though the least stream, it gives name to the river: the other, and more
copious stream, is called the Clun. The Little Teme contains principally
trout; the Clun, both trout and grayling: but the fish are more abundant
in the meadows, between this place and Downton, than in other parts of
the river; for above, the stream is too rapid and shallow to be
favourable to their increase; and below, it is joined by other streams,
and becomes too abundant in coarse fish.
POIET.—I cannot understand why the grayling should be so scarce a fish
in England. It is abundant in many districts on the continent; but in
this island it is found, I believe, only in a few rivers, and does not
exist, I think, either in Ireland or Scotland. Yet, being an Alpine
fish, and naturally fond of cool water, it might have been expected
among the Highlands.
HAL.—I formerly used to account for this, by supposing it an _imported_
fish, and not indigenous; but, in some of my continental excursions, I
have seen it living only under such peculiar circumstances, that I doubt
the correctness of this my early opinion.
POIET.—Which was, I conclude, that it was introduced by the monks, in
the time when England was under the See of Rome. As a favourite fish of
St. Ambrose it was worth cultivating, as well as for its own sake; and I
think you have done wrong to relinquish this idea, for, as far as my
recollection serves me, the rivers that contain it are near the ruins of
great monasteries. The Avon, near Salisbury; the Ure, near Fountain’s
Abbey; the Wye, near the great Abbey of Tintern; and, if I am not
mistaken, in the lower part of this valley there are the remains of an
extensive establishment of friars.
HAL.—But there are rivers near the ruins of some of the most magnificent
establishments of this kind in Europe, and those nearest the continent,
where the grayling is not found; for instance, in the Stour, at
Canterbury. And if the grayling _be_ an imported fish, it is wonderful,
that it should not be found in the rivers in Kent, and along the
south-west coast of England, as in Dorsetshire, Devonshire, and
Cornwall, where the monastic establishments were numerous; and why it
should be found in some rivers in the mountainous parts of Wales, as in
that near Llan-wrted and the Dee; not near Val Crusis Abbey, but fifteen
miles higher up, between Corwen and Bala.
POIET.—It may have been a fish imported from the continent, and carried
to a number of rivers, only a few of which may have suited its habits,
and has remained there and multiplied.
HAL.—There may be truth in what you are now imagining, for the grayling
requires a number of circumstances in a river to enable it to increase.
POIET.—What circumstances are these?
HAL.—A temperature in the water which must be moderate—neither too high
nor too low. Grayling are never found in streams that run from
glaciers—at least near their source; and they are killed by cold or
heat. I once put some grayling from the Teme, in September, with some
trout, into a confined water, rising from a spring in the yard at
Downton; the grayling all died, but the trout lived. And in the hot
summer of 1825, great numbers of large grayling died in the Avon, below
Ringwood, without doubt killed by the heat in July.
POIET.—But I have heard of grayling being common in Lapland—at least so
says Linnæus.
HAL.—I think it must be another species of the same genus; the same as
Back’s grayling found by Captain Franklin and his companions in North
America, and distinguished by a much larger back fin. Having travelled
with the fishing-rod in my hand through most of the Alpine valleys in
the south and east of Europe, and some of those in Norway and Sweden, I
have always found the char in the coldest and highest waters; the trout,
in the brooks rising in the highest and coldest mountains; and the
grayling always lower, where the temperature was milder: and if in hot
countries, only at the foot of mountains, not far from sources which had
the mean temperature of the atmosphere,—as in the Vipacco, near
Goritzia, and in the streams which gush forth from the limestone caverns
of the Nordic Alps. Besides temperature, grayling require a peculiar
character in the disposition of the water of rivers. They do not dwell,
like trout, in rapid shallow torrents; nor, like char or chub, in deep
pools or lakes. They require a combination of stream and pool; they like
a deep still pool for rest, and a rapid stream above, and a gradually
declining shallow below, and a bottom where marl or loam is mixed with
gravel; and they are not found abundant except in rivers that have these
characters. It is impossible to have a more perfect specimen of a
grayling river than that now running before us, in this part of its
course. You see a succession of deep still pools under shady banks of
marl, with gentle rapids above, and a long shelving tail, where the fish
sport and feed. Should there be no such pools in a river, grayling would
remain, provided the water was clear, and would breed; but they cannot
stem rapid streams, and they are gradually carried down lower and lower,
and at last disappear. You know the Test, one of the finest trout
streams in Hampshire, and of course in England; when I first knew this
stream, twenty years ago, there were no grayling in it. A gentleman
brought some from the Avon, and introduced them into the river at
Longstock, above Stockbridge. They were for two or three years very
abundant in that part of the river; but they gradually descended, and
though they multiplied greatly, there are now scarcely any above
Stockbridge. There were, four years ago, many in the river just below;
but this year there are very few there, and the great proportion that
remains is found below Houghton. I ought to mention, that the water is
particularly fitted for them, and they become larger in this river than
in their native place, the Avon,—some of them weighing between 3 and
4lbs. The trout, in all its habits of migration, runs upward, seeking
the fresh and cool waters of mountain sources to spawn in: the grayling,
I believe, has never the same habit of running up stream; I never saw
one leaping at a fall, where trout are so often seen. Their large back
fin seems intended to enable them to rise and sink rapidly in deep
pools; and the slender nature of the body, towards the tail, renders
them much more unfit for leaping cataracts than trout and salmon. The
temperature of the water, and its character as to still and stream, seem
of more importance than clearness; for I have seen grayling taken in
streams, that are almost constantly turbid,—as in the Inn and the Salza
in the Tyrol. This fish appears to require food of a particular kind,
feeding much upon flies and their larvæ, and not usually preying upon
small fish, as the trout. It has a very strong stomach, in texture like
that of the gillaroo trout, and is exceedingly fond of those larvæ which
inhabit cases, and are usually covered with sand or gravel. I once
caught a grayling in the Wochain Save, that weighed about a pound and a
half, the stomach of which equalled in size a very large walnut, and
contained some small shells, and two or three white round pebbles as
large as small beans. In accordance with their general habits of
feeding, grasshoppers are amongst their usual food in the end of summer
and autumn; and at all seasons, maggots, upon fine tackle and a small
hook, offer a secure mode of taking them,—the pool having been
previously baited for the purpose of angling, by throwing in a handful
or two a few minutes before.
POIET.—You just now said, that you thought the Lapland fish, considered
by Linnæus as grayling, was the same as Back’s grayling; but I find, in
the Appendix to Captain Franklin’s narration, two graylings described as
belonging to the northern regions,—one the Coregonus Signifer, and
another, which appears to differ very little from it, except being small
in size. This seems to agree as nearly as possible with our grayling,
with a difference of at most one spine in the back fin. May not this in
fact be the same fish as the grayling of the Alps, only rendered in a
succession of generations fit for a colder climate?
HAL.—This is certainly possible: there is no doubt, that, in many
successive generations, animals may be fitted to bear changes, which
would have destroyed their progenitors. It is said by Bloch, that
graylings are found in the Caspian Sea, and in the Baltic,—masses of
saline water; though, as I have proved, the grayling of England will not
bear even a brackish water, without dying. And notwithstanding the
severity of the winter in high northern latitudes, streams under the ice
may retain a temperature not much lower than some of the Alpine rivers.
I have seen grayling in Carniola, in a source at the hottest season not
quite 50°; and as, in large bodies of water, the deepest part, in frost,
is generally the warmest—about 40°, the degree at which water is
heaviest—I see no reason why grayling may not be habituated to such a
temperature—coolness being generally favourable to their existence. But
see, the fog which had filled the valley and hid the mountains from our
sight is clearing away, and I fear it will be a hot day. Before the sun
becomes too bright is the best time for fishing, in such a day as this.
As soon as the fog is fairly off, the water-flies will begin to appear,
and fish to sport.
PHYS.—I see the fog has already disappeared from the deep water in the
meadow, where I suppose the warmth of the air from the considerable mass
of the water, is greater; and which is further removed from the hills
sending down currents of cold air, from the mixture of which with the
moist warm air above the river this phenomenon is produced. I see some
yellow flies beginning to come out; they have already felt the influence
of the warm air: and look! a fish has just risen opposite that bank, and
he rises again: let us prepare our tackle.
POIET.—What flies shall we employ?
HAL.—I recommend at least three; for the grayling lies deeper and is not
so shy a fish as the trout; and, provided your link is fine, is not apt
to be scared by the cast of flies on the water. The fineness of the
link, and of the guts to which your flies are attached, is a most
essential point, and the clearer the stream the finer should be the
tackle. I have known good fishermen foiled by using a gut of ordinary
thickness, though their fly was of the right size and colour. Very
slender transparent gut of the colour of the water is one of the most
important causes of success in grayling fishing. Let me see your book: I
will select a fine stretcher. Now, for the lowest fly, use a
yellow-bodied fly, with red hackle for legs, and landrail’s wing: for
the second, a blue dun, with dun body; and for the highest, the claret
coloured body, with blue wings; and let your first dropper fly be about
three feet from the stretcher and from the other dropper, and let the
hanging link which attaches them be 3½ inches long.
PHYS.—There are several fish rising: I shall throw at that opposite—he
appears large.
HAL.—It is a trout and not a grayling.
PHYS.—How do you know?
HAL.—By his mode of rising. He is lying at the top of the water, taking
the flies as they sail down by him, which a grayling scarcely ever does.
_He_ rises rapidly from the bottom or middle of the water, on the
contrary—darting upwards, and, having seized his fly, returns to his
station. There! a grayling has risen. I do not mean, however, that this
habit is invariable; I have sometimes seen trout feed like grayling, and
grayling like trout, but neither of these fish emits bubbles of air in
rising, as dace and chub do.
PHYS.—I have one! He has taken my blue dun, and must be a small one, for
he plays with no vigour.
HAL.—He is about ¾lb.—a fish of two years and a half old—very good for
the table. I will land him if possible.
PHYS.—There! He is off!
HAL.—This happens often with grayling: their mouths are tender, and
unless the hook catches in the upper lip, which is rather thick, it is
more than an equal chance that the fish escapes you.
PHYS.—Here, I have another, that has taken the stretcher, and as it is a
larger hook, I hope he may be held. He is likewise a larger fish—but how
oddly he spins! This, I suppose, must be owing to his large back fin, by
which the stream carries him round. There he is: he has quite twisted my
link; it would not be amiss to have swivels for this kind of fishing.
HAL.—It is a fish in good season,—dark above, fair below, and weighs, I
should suppose, about 1¼lb.
PHYS.—As this is the first grayling I have seen of my own taking, I must
measure, weigh, and examine him.
HAL.—We can do this hereafter. See, our fish barrel; he can be kept
alive till a more convenient time of the day.
PHYS.—I am disposed to gratify my curiosity immediately: for to acquire
information is at least as interesting to me as catching fish. I shall
kill him by a blow on the head. He is not, I suppose, worth crimping
afterwards?
HAL.—Certainly not, at this time; and it is not necessary with a fish of
this size, which ought to be fried; but if we catch a large grayling,
approaching to 2lbs., he shall be killed, crimped, and boiled, like our
Denham trout; you will then find him excellent, and not inferior, in my
opinion, to the best perch—more like the most exquisitely tasted of all
our fish, the red mullet.
PHYS.—Out of the water, this is a handsome fish, broader round the
middle, and more hog-backed than the trout, but gracefully tapering
towards the tail. The belly, I see, is silvery with yellow; and the
pectoral, ventral, and anal fins are almost gold-coloured; the back gray
with small black spots, and the back fin of a beautiful bright purple,
with black and blue spots. It has likewise an agreeable odour; so that
both from its colour and smell it does not seem undeserving the title
given it by St. Ambrose, of _the flower of fishes_. It measures, I find,
14 inches in length; in girth 7½. It weighs 17 ounces. It has 10 spines
in the pectoral fin, 23 in the dorsal, 16 in the ventral, 14 in the
anal, and 18 in the caudal.