BY JOCK SCOTT.

Otago Witness, Issue 1832, 31 December 1886, Page 30

BY JOCK SCOTT.

To be a perfect fisherman you require more excellences than are usually to be found in such a small spaoe as is allotted to a man's carcass. — Parker Gilmore. '-

THE WAIPAHI. O, the Watoahi, the bonnie Waipalii ; O' rivers it's the best,' Anglo he-e, or angle the.c,« Troots are'soomiug everywhere ; Angle east or west.

The Waipahi is one of our best troufcing rivers and is a stream that the trout love to tumble and leap in. The reason is not far to seek. Are not its' waters as sweet and wholesome as the naotar that .the gods partook of ? Are there not deep, rocky laira all overgrown with long, slender weeds that stretch their feathery branches in every direction, affording hiding places for the speckled beauties— nooks that a sea nymph herself would covet ? How calmly and placidly it meanders down the valley from among the tussock-covered hills. It is in no hurry to join the roily snow waters of the Pomahaka. It is an uncanny alliance, and no wonder the trout forsake this turbid stream to revel in the pellucid waters of its sister stream. When the brain-fagged and worn-out frame of the cityresiding angler needs rest and invigorating exercise let him hie away to this stream and drink in the pure ozone of the hills, meander along its banks, lure the finny denizens from its crystal pools and see nature in all her varied forms. Although the trout are at times inclined to be sly and turn up their noses at the lures placed so temptingly before them, yet when they are on the "take" they afford more sport than any other trout I know of.

I have fished every inch of its waters, from its junctio^ with the Pomahaka to where the Otaria pours in its sparkling waters. Well I remember one February morning, after fishing the lower reaches for two long hours without getting a single- rise, and the fish rising all round me. Taking off the cricket which I had been using and putting on a small blue-dun fly, I made a cast where I had seen a fine threepounder breaking. No sooner were the flies on the water than I had him fast. How that trout did play! I remember it as well as if it were only yesterday, and I also remember how, in trying to land him, I nearly slipped in head first, having to reach down over the bank to get him into the landing net. In one-hour I caught five splendid fish weighing 151b, .and lost a sixth through the line catching a fax bush that had most provokingly taken it into its head to grow right in the middle of a splendid run.

This fishing artiole is at an end, not for want of material, for there are many scenes and experiences and other times of equal pleasure that crowd my memory as I pen these lines, but my editor is inexorable, and tells me I must " cut it short" to make room for his budget of New Year's stories, and as is well known the laws of editors are like those famous laws of the Medes and Pereians— unalterable.

Wishing all who love the glorious pastime a Happy New Year, I remain, as of yore — Jock Scott — a born fisherman.