How To Fish the Floating Fly
(Continued)

Casting purely to the rise is the orthodox way of dry fly fishing on the English chalk streams; that this manner of fishing the floater is of necessity subordinated to fishing all the water on American streams has been mentioned heretofore. Save in extremely favorable localities where the conditions closely approximate those of the British streams, stalking the fish is practically love's labor lost. However, large, quiet pools may be fished in this way if the angler selects the most propitious time for rising trout—in the warm season a little before sundown and for some time thereafter. Extensive, quiet reaches where the fishing is open may also at times be resorted to with the idea of casting to the rise, and some fair sport obtained.

Regarding the sporting merits of the two methods, I personally am sure that if conditions allowed I would never cast a fly except to a rising trout. The visible rise of a trout always appears in the nature of a challenge, and my inability to get away from a place where I positively know a good trout is located has frequently resulted in my return with a pretty light creel. When casting over a pool, no matter how good, while fishing all the water, lack of success eventually breeds a doubt as to the presence of a trout therein; anglers going before may have temporarily fished it out or for some other reason, the pool may be barren at the time.

But when casting over a rising trout everything is certain and well-defined. You know where the fish is located, or at least where he came up; you generally have a pretty fair idea of his size; if duly observant you can guess closely to what sort of natural fly the fish rose, everything is sure save the eventual capture of that particular trout. You are fairly certain that if the right fly is put over the fish in the right way success will follow. It is up to you.

To cast with some understanding to a rising trout, it is very necessary that the angler be somewhat familiar with the habits of the fish when feeding upon the floating insect and also be fairly conversant with the life histories of what may be termed the fishing flies. That rises occur when the fish are not feeding, that sometimes the trout roll up to or leap above the surface, is well known to the experienced stream fisherman. With this feature of the matter we are not here concerned; the habit has been variously accounted for by anglers and icthyologists but the motive of the fish in thus acting is still debatable. However this may be, the angler may safely conclude that any visible rise—save generally a clear leap above the surface—is a rise to the natural fly by a feeding trout until the contrary may appear from the attendant circumstances.

It is with the bona fide rise of a trout to the floating natural fly that the dry fly caster is chiefly concerned. But in this connection it should be noted that the feeding of trout upon the natural insect is by no means confined to the time of the latter's appearance strictly on the surface. Of the water-bred insects the Ephemeridae, called "duns" when in the sub-imago state, occupy the place of greatest importance in the entomology of the dry fly fisherman. In a later chapter something is said of the commoner insect life of the stream; it should here be noted, however, that trout feed upon the Ephemeridae, for instance, at all stages of their existence.

From the eggs deposited upon or in the water by the adult insect, or "spinner," in due time the nymphs are hatched. Upon these the trout feed at times on the stream-bed and in the weeds, nosing upon the bottom and in the aquatic vegetation in somewhat the same way as the common sucker or the German carp go about their business of drawing sustenance from the muck and weeds of the stream-bed. This habit of the trout, when followed in shallow water, results in an occasional disturbance of the surface by the tails of the fish and is called "tailing" in the nomenclature of the English dry fly fisherman. In this connection it should be noted, however, that the nymphs of the Ephemeridae which burrow under rocks and in the stream-bed and there remain until about to assume the first winged, or dun, state are practically inaccessible to the fish, although doubtless taken at times. Tailing trout are usually feeding upon caddis and other larvae.

Subsequently the nymphs, having undergone certain physical changes while in the nymphal stage, are ready to rise to the surface, cast off the nymphal shuck or envelope, and emerge into the air in the first winged state (sub-imago) at which time, as noted, they are called duns. During the rise of the nymphs to the surface, when about to assume the dun state, they are often taken by the trout with avidity, and frequently when the nymph has neared the surface a trout taking it will visibly disturb the surface or break water—again in dry fly parlance called "bulging."

Ground-feeding or tailing trout and trout feeding in mid-water upon nymphs floating up to the surface—bulging trout—are manifestly not genuinely rising fish. To consider briefly once more the life history of the Ephemeridae: when the "hatch" is on, the nymph upon reaching the surface splits open the nymphal envelope and at once takes wing as a dun—an ephemeral fly in the sub-imago or first winged state. When the duns are thus hatching the fly may float for some little distance while ridding itself of the nymphal envelope and drying its wings for flight; a rise to the fly at this time is a true rise. It would seem, however, from very close observation of the water during a good many plentiful hatches of duns, that only an occasional insect, as compared with the great numbers hatching, remains upon the water for any appreciable time while undergoing the metamorphosis from nymph to dun—the change is in most cases practically instantaneous. You may select any certain area of water, when duns are emerging constantly from every part of a pool, and watch that certain area with the utmost intentness; the chances are you will not see a single fly actually upon the water although many do, indeed, emerge from the water under observation and fly away.

In "American Insects" Professor Vernon L. Kellogg, of Leland Stanford University, writes as follows: "At the end of the immature life the nymphs rise to the surface, and after floating there a short time suddenly split open the cuticle along the back and after hardly a second's pause expand the delicate wings and fly away. Some nymphs brought into the laboratory from a watering trough at Stanford University emerged one after the other from the aquarium with amazing quickness." This from an undoubted authority, with my own experience, comparatively short but to the same end, leads me to believe that rises to the duns on the surface at the time of metamorphosis from the nymph are certainly less frequent than commonly believed and implied by dry fly writers; the rise would have to come at such an acutely psychological instant that the chances are altogether too many against it.

In fact it would seem that when the duns are hatching many, perhaps most, rises are to the floating nymph and not to the winged insect. Autopsy shows a marked preponderance of larvae and nymphae about to change to the winged state over winged insects in the stomachs of trout taken under natural conditions. Furthermore, I might quote Mr. Halford when, in discussing bulging trout, he says: "Fish, when feeding on larvae and nymphae, at times rise quietly, without moving about from place to place. It is almost impossible under these circumstances to distinguish the apparent from bona fide rises."

All of which does not militate in the least against the theory that the artificial fly should correspond with the natural; when a decided hatch is on the trout are fully aware of the nature of the prevalent fly and if feeding upon it are quite likely to notice no other either natural or artificial. But the theory does, indeed, explain some phases of dry fly fishing which otherwise are quite inexplicable; for instance, inability to induce a rise to the properly fished winged artificial when its corresponding natural is hatching and "apparent" rises to it are evidently common. It seems fairly certain that at such times the fish are feeding exclusively on the floating nymphs, taking them on the surface in practically the same way as the winged dun is taken. Also fish thus feeding would hardly come within the technical definition of bulging trout as that term is generally understood.

Having assumed the first winged state, scientifically the sub-imago, the duns thereafter are upon the water more or less during its continuance, sometimes blown upon the water or descending to the surface without apparent reason, and the trout rise to and feed upon them when in the mood. In a short time the dun or sub-imago undergoes another metamorphosis to the imago or "spinner"—the adult insect. The male spinners are subsequently upon the water in a spent or practically lifeless condition following the completion of the act of coition. The latter takes place over the stream to which the female spinner then descends to void her eggs. This, with some species, is done upon the surface, the fly floating downstream the while eventually to rise again and fly, generally it would seem, upstream—unless the program is incontinently halted by the accurate rise of a trout. The spent spinners ("spent gnats") also serve as food for the trout—the male when it has completed the act of procreation and falls to the stream, the female when all the eggs have been voided.

Excluding, then, bottom-feeding or tailing fish, also fish feeding upon nymphs either in mid-water or, as noted, practically upon the surface, the trout feed upon the Ephemeridae first as duns and subsequently when, as spinners, the female floats on the surface when voiding her eggs, and upon both males and females when spent. Before casting to a rising trout the angler should, as far as may be, determine the nature of the rise and the fly to which it was made. The question of the right fly having been decided, it remains only for the angler to put the fly over the fish in the right way.

When you see the rise of a presumably feeding trout, spot it carefully; that is, make very sure of the exact spot where the fish rose. Unless this is done it will be necessary to wait for another rise, which may never come, or to cast haphazardly over the approximate place, which usually results in failure. As a general rule the artificial must travel in practically the same path as the natural fly if the trout is to rise to it

Choose your place from which to cast over the trout with two things in mind—to avoid being seen by the fish, and to lessen the liability of drag. Keep low and cast not a foot more line than necessary.

Do not cast to the exact place of the rise; drop your fly some two or three feet above it so that the fly will float down over the place where the fish rose. Moreover, if possible, avoid throwing your leader over the fish—which will not occur unless you cast actually in line with it from below.

If the fish fails to rise let your fly float well below it before lifting it from the water—for which the reason should be obvious. My own experience leads me to believe that often a trout will rise only to a fly, natural or artificial, floating over a certain small area of the surface which sometimes the fish seems to have selected for the purpose of feeding; if the artificial fly fails to cover the exact spot to which the trout is rising it may be the fish will wholly disregard it. Frequently I have cast to a rising fish and failed through difficulties of drag—and poor casting—to get the fly over the right place in the right way until possibly the fifteenth or twentieth cast, and in the meantime have seen the fish rise to the natural fly within six inches of the artificial. But when I have had the right fly and by dint of persistent casting have at last floated it over the exact spot—the "dead line" for the natural fly—the response has almost always been instantaneous and emphatic. So I would advise not letting up on a rising fish until you are sure that what may be termed the feeding zone of the trout—often very restricted—has been covered by your fly while cocked and floating in an absolutely natural way.

At the same time it is poor business to keep hammering away at a very particular fish for the simple reason that the more you cast to him the more shy and finicky he is apt to become—certainly if the casting is not done with the utmost possible skill and unobtrusiveness—and eventually you may set him down to stay. It is best to divide your attentions, fishing the water above or below, and returning from time to time to make some half-dozen casts over the reluctant one.

I believe it pays best when fishing all the water to use a fairly large fly—as dry flies go—say a fly dressed on a No. 10 long-shanked hook. I have had particularly good results from the floaters tied on these long-shanked hooks and am of the opinion that for average dry fly fishing under American conditions, when fishing all the water, they are more successful than the orthodox patterns. This goes for the larger, deeper streams and, as noted, for fishing all the water. For small stream fishing smaller flies are preferable. So far as I know dry fly patterns on No. 10 long-shanked hooks are procurable only from William Mills & Son, New York.

But when casting to a rising trout, even if you cannot discern to what fly the fish is rising it is best to discard the fancy pattern—hare's ear, Wickham, or coachman, which are generally best to use when fishing all the water for general results—and to put up an imitation of some one of the duns, olive, iron blue, whirling blue, and so on, dressed on a No. 12 or 14 hook which best approximate in size the natural ephemera ordinarily prevalent on the trout streams. The common-sense of this should not need argument, and it is best to try the small dun before possibly setting down the fish with a fancy pattern.

From the above it could be gathered that one of the approximately exact imitations of the duns might be superior to a so-called fancy pattern for steady fishing, fishing all the water; and, indeed, upon occasions, this is certainly the case. In the season of 1911 I was out one day with a wet fly fisherman on one of the smaller Berkshire streams, upon which occasion we took eight trout from a small pool at the foot of a falls. The wet fly man, who, by the way, has played the game some thirty-five years during which time he has learned some few things about it, took two fish with the coachman and then cast for fully half an hour without results. In the meantime I busied myself with the camera, by no means, however, failing to note several rises in various parts of the pool.

When the wet fly man had gone on about his nefarious business I rested the pool while putting up an olive dun dressed on a No. 14 hook. Shortly thereafter I had six good trout for my pains and a still greater respect for the great little dry fly—in addition to a good working "bulge" on the veteran. But below the pool I could do nothing with the little dun and I was eventually compelled to return to my favorite golden ribbed hare's ear with which I then killed several good fish.

For straightaway all-water fishing it would seem that a good fancy pattern, rather large, ordinarily gives the best results, save over very clear or low water when everything depends upon refining the tackle. Moreover, when fishing the water it is distinctly easier to keep a comparatively large fly dry and floating—the very small patterns when in constant use soon become thoroughly soaked and difficult to float.