“Yesterday I was out alone and worked up to a Pasha and his Harem--the ladies between him and me--he just out of shot on a hillock behind them--approach from the front impossible, but just a chance--almost a certainty with a fair breeze--from a rock to one side, _if_ he should come down to his ladies before they got a puff. I risked it and got a comfy corner in the sun and waited to see which would win--the affectionate impulses of the stag or the more wavering evolutions of the scarcely perceptible puffs of wind, the old lady sixty yards away looking serenely at the top of my head. Needless to say that after two hours, just when the stag stretched one fore foot and began to hum a love ditty, I felt a well-known cool feeling at the back of my neck, and the party adjourned the meeting. Luckily I am not bloodthirsty, but enjoy being among deer, and on these occasions driving snow and rain, or sunshine and a dry tussock to curl up on, make all the difference.” [Illustration: (The River Wye)] III A GREAT FISH AND A GREATER FISHERMAN The river Wye goes out to sea By stealth, in silent secrecy: Among the hills she winds and wends And wanders by the sombre woods, And cleaves her way in circling bends Through mountain solitudes.[1] Towards the end of March 1921 I received an invitation to fish the river Wye, which, as every one knows, is famous for its heavy salmon. My own rods and tackle were in the North of Scotland, and there was not sufficient time to send for them. I knew that in the spring the fishing in this particular river was almost entirely by spinning with the minnow. I arrived at my destination on Monday, March 28, and had five days fishing before me. There had been a good deal of rain before I arrived, and the river was both too high and too much color. The fishing on my host’s beat had so far been very disappointing. During the preceding six weeks the river had been fished almost every day by my host and one or other of his friends; but although hardly any fish had been lost, only five had been killed, all with the minnow, the largest being 29 lb. My kindly host, who is a past master of all things connected with salmon and trout fishing, fitted me up with first-class equipment. I had never used a Nottingham or Silex reel before, and it took me the greater part of my first day to acquire the art of throwing the minnow effectively. For the next two days I fished with the minnow from morning till night without getting a pull or seeing anything. I have been a keen fly-fisher all my life and have killed a good many salmon and many trout, and on Friday morning, as the river had fallen considerably, I told my host that if I might do so I should like to try the fly. He readily assented, and said that I should have one of his own fly rods, and before we started he