A ALL dry fly anglers owe a deep grudge to modern sub-soil drainage, which hurries, helter skelter, all the rain that falls into the river, thus doing away with the former gentle soakage into the soil, which served to feed our springs and keep up an even flow and an even head of water. Now we have but alternations of flood and emptiness; the millers, moreover, suffering from these alterations, and sadly lacking water in most seasons, cry out loudly against any obstacle in the river-bed; consequently the river weeds are ruthlessly and unscientifically cut away. The weeds, the natural nurseries of fish food, being thus reduced in quantity, the supply of food is seriously compromised, holts for the fish are destroyed, bare areas of river bed—on which moving one fish means possibly the moving of scores—afford neither refuge nor shelter, and become practically impossible to fish. All fish need shelter in the hot weather from the summer sun, all need refuges to which to resort if scared; take these away and the result must be deplorable. Those amongst us who have had the privilege of fishing in waters where the cutting of the weeds has been scientifically and wisely performed will have realised the difference this point alone can make to a fishery. All the details of weed and water-farming have been so exhaustively treated by Mr. Halford in his various works on "Dry fly fishing," that they need not be described here. No better mentor could be chosen. The constant and irregular cutting of weeds has, moreover, a very trying effect both upon the sport and the temper of an angler. Huge masses of weed floating down, just at the moment when the hatch of fly, so patiently waited for, is in full swing, and the fish in the mood to take them, will sorely tax our powers of self-control. How often has such a state of things extracted from us a "swear word"! These very weeds may, nevertheless, be made to serve a useful purpose. There is a fine fish lying a yard or so from the opposite bank; the stream between us is heavy and quick; over the fish is an oily glide of water, the pace of the stream being checked by friction with the river bank. On this the duns float steadily, led by the stream into its embrace. Our friend the trout knows this full well, and therefore persistently takes up his station at that spot. We have often tried for him, but the pace of the stream between us, stand where we will, has always beaten us: no sooner has our well-cocked fly sailed into the head of the glide than it is hurried across it, leaving a most unnatural trail, or wake, behind it such as no living insect ever made. This trail of the serpent, or "drag" as it is called, is one of the greatest difficulties that we have to cope with in angling with the floating fly. It is, like the poor, always with us. But the very weeds we have been so persistently abusing may be brought into our service to overcome it. Watch a mass of floating weed that is about to be carried over the position Proprietors of valuable fishing rights are strangely unappreciative of the advantages of scientific weed cutting and weed growing; they seem to be inclined to let matters take their course, and in consequence suffer considerably, and until they realise what this carelessness means to them things will be allowed to go on in the old groove. decoration |