Swedish version

Dan Fallon's World of Fly fishing

Column nr. 12  2006  


Legend Of The Yellow Mosquito

  Not long after the beginning of the 1st Century B.C. among the misty hills of Ireland one of my most obscure ancestor's Angus O'Fallon and his family had been living off the land and waters for many generations...... His life though harsh was at times quite sublime because he lived near the famous home of Irelands most famous God Dagda. Dagda and his charges lived in a Faire mound where time and other mortal limitations were unheard of. Dagda was blessed with a magic cauldron that produced an endless supply of wild boar meat and could restore any hero to full capacity after being mortally wounded in battle. Dagda's life was grand and he was most respected and feared. Those who tasted his hospitality were treated to endless drinking of the fine Goibhniu's Ale, this high powered ale was also given to Dagda in endless supply..

  Rivers and streams were boiling with salmon and trout allowing Angus O'Fallon all the food and water he would need! This life of mutual respect and abundance went on for almost fifty years. Whenever Dagda encountered Angus he would rub a special fairy salve into his eye's which allowed Angus to see Dagda and his splendid underworld in it's reality, after a time the salve would wear off. Dagda liked Angus because he was grateful, humble, and never caught more fish then he would need to feed his family. This mutual admiration society came to an abrupt halt one morning when several of Dagda's faire friends came across many salmon and trout that were caught and killed and left to rot on the shore of the local stream.

  When Dagda heard the story of waste and disrespect he became angry and summoned Angus to his faire mound, "Angus my friend was it you who killed the fish for nothing?" "No my lord it was not I, that you can be assured!" "You have been a good man to me and this land for many years Angus, it would pain me to think you have become greedy like most mortals?"

"No sir greed lives not in me or my family rest assured, I will find out who the trespasser is and bring him to you mighty Dagda!"

  Many nights and days pass before Angus found a stranger near his favorite stream who was casting a peculiar bait that looked like an insect? Angus hid in the tall grass and watched as salmon after salmon rose and hit the odd feathered thing being thrown upon his own home waters. When it became clear this fishermen delighted only in the catching and killing of fish, Angus approached him in earnest, "You sir are trespassing on my private stream and worst of all your killing salmon for the joy of it?"

"I'm doing just that Laddy, it is my destiny to make sure these salmon fulfill their destiny!"

"You sir must understand your also trespassing on the mighty Dagda's property, his faire mound his palace Sidh Of Brug na Boinne is but yards from where we are standing, these fish are his fish sir!"

  Laughter and knee slapping ensued as the stranger opened his leather pack and displayed his collection of flies tied with exotic feathers from deepest Africa and the Amazon.

"Feast your tired eyes upon these Laddy, your pathetic worms and grubs cannot compete with this piscatorial feast!"

"These feathered things do look like insects, you created these things with your own hands sir?"

"Of course not, only the secret chiefs, the anointed ones can create such fooling beasts. Poseidon and his loyal subjects in the underworld gave me these imitation creatures to fulfill a spell cast upon mighty Dagda. We begin by taking his bounty and next we take his powers, the cauldron and the endless ale. You go now and implore Dagda to willingly give up his powers before we take them!"

"Yes, Angus we know of this man and his curse, those tiny insects are made from animal bone hooks and the feathers of ancient birds. His magic is powerful because he is only a tool of the empty soulless Black Guard that once ruled this land before the clan of the Tuatha De' Danaan Gods claimed it!"

"The feathered insects he uses are most odd in that they have appear to be a kind of mosquito yellow in color, I have never seen such an insect before?"

"Ahh, yes my boy that is the final confirmation! That Yellow Mosquito was once found only in the region where the blood thirsty Black Guard encamped. Angus find this man and tell him to come to my faire mound and feast."

  Weeks fly by and no sign of the fish killing stranger makes Angus anxious! If he fails to bring the man to Dagda? What will be his own fate? On a full moon night Angus hiding behind rocks finds the stranger about to begin his killing spree.

"Sir, I have news for you, the mighty Dagda invites you to feast in his faire mound. He requests you bring your feathered insects especially the Yellow Mosquito!"

  As is usually the case with fairies and their incredible mounds, a state of constant revelry, feasting, dancing and general merriment is the order of the day! As the two fishermen approach a faire wearing a funny pointed hat rubs special sight ointment into their eyes allowing for a brief time both men to see this special underground world...

"Such a fine feast, ale to die for and watching those little people dance is most devine."

"Yes, Dagda has been living a perfect immortal life up till now, where is our host?"

"Welcome to my palace, I have been waiting for the Black Guard for several centuries!"

"My masters hope you peacefully give up this underground playground of midgets and evaporate into mortal dust sir!"

  In a moment the stranger is surrounded by Dagda's loyal faire's spinning him into a golden cocoon with golden spider webs, his cache of magic flies is quickly given to Dagda for inspection...

"Yes, I see these imitation insects are the work of Black Guard wizards, Angus you take these yellow mosquitos and learn their secrets. This gentlemen and I have a date with destiny!"

"You have killed many of my salmon and trout for no reason other then completing a spell cast upon me so long ago I forgot about it! You will be banished into the secret caves below my palace and from this time until the 21st Century your life will be that of an earth worm. When the lands become crowded with selfish greedy adventurers who cover all the land with black tar and fowl all the rivers and streams. Only then will you become a man again, so be it for the greater good..."


Hook: #18 Barbless
Body: Dyed yellow thick yarn
Hackel: Black wild mink
Tail: South American Macaw (subst.)


© Phil Frank 2002

Illustrated By Phil Frank,
San Francisco Chronicle Cartoonist, creator of "Farley "


  As the Dali Lama, Fletcher Quill, Jason Aki, Jive Boy arrive with great fanfare, Sera Monastery one of the famous three great monasteries. Located at the foot of Tatipu Hill, built in 1419 by Sakya Yeshe. Sera is noted for its murals, debating monks and its Tantric teaching's. His High Holiness escorts his new friends into Coqen Hall a four story building where the statues of Maitreya and 16 Arhats dwell..

"Your Holiness this place feels as if ancient monks are still debating robes and hands flailing as the incense moves with the morning mist...."

"Yes newly minted Shaman, we are going to bathe our spirits and souls in the loving arms of ancient Dali Lama's, my original carnations. After the feasting you and I will spend time acquainting you with the secrets only myself, the Pope and perhaps Mr. Crowley understand."

  The mood is broken with arrival of great arbiter Chaos who throws his bolts with deadly accuracy.....

"Excuse me your Holiness please follow me to your private quarters along with Mr. Quill. I'm afraid the airplane carrying your San Francisco friends has not been heard from and now is overdue the news from our contacts in China."

"Fletcher let us prey together for their safety, perhaps this is premature information."

"Your Holiness these young monks spend the bulk of their time debating one another?"

"This does appear strange to western eye's, here we enjoy chewing on problems with our peers instead of final solutions based on emotions my friend... Perhaps if all world leaders practiced vigorous debate this material world might seem less black and white?"

"Excuse your Holiness are those feathers on your vestments as antiquated as I imagine?"

"Your capacity for cerebral discipline moves me..."

  His low Highness or his weirdness newly ordained international bad boy Shaman decides the young monks constant chanting, " Oh how do those Yaks spend their free time? Are they resting up for more endurance issues or are they thinking; Mmm, is it almost my time to become entree Yak!".

"Excuse me young man can you please instruct your fellows to begin debating this very timely issue, "Do hot Blonds easily bond with other uber blondes ?" And one more little adjustment boys I brought along my Howlin Wolf London sessions CD and Clapton's new Cream regroup stuff dudes!"

  Suddenly the eternal chill that has enveloped most serene Sera Monastery meets Chicago back street Buddy Guy. Young monks are highly enthused with the blond chant so Fletcher scribbles out twenty original new cool debates like, "How long will wild bill behave if Hillary recaptures the family ranch?" or "How many more Hollywood white males have to meltdown before America begins to recognize WMO White Male Overload?" or "Was it really a good idea to let all those Electronic voting machine guys working the late shift smoke funny cigereets?"

"Excuse me Mr. Quill his Holiness would like you to know two survivors have been found in the crash of the San Francisco jet your friends were on, Shelly Simon and Terry Kenndy's luck has held, we await more news."

"Shelly and Terry are so lucky, by the way your Holiness if anything ever happens to me please take me to your secret Sky Burial place where I can be consumed by the birds and animals I love"

"Yes, you now have a place in the secret sky burial place. Here Fletcher wrapped inside this ancient mandela exist several documents explaining secrets of the earth and the universe you will now understand."

"Thank you sir" Cell phone call from the Cowboy breaks the mood as incense and chanting monks keep the energy moving quite nicely, Fletcher feels very much at home in this surreal atmosphere. His loving cat Timba's spirit moves with his master as the Mongolian sun sets...

"Man, that was a real Texas style thumpin son! No question me and the Condo are mooe upset. Sooo have you spoken with his Holiness about a few test oil wells maybe up high where the gods are?"

"Sooo not going to happen sir! We are busy feasting and unraveling secrets before we get down to the International Kite Olympics. I just found your monthly update of all Secretary of Interior news and latest Marine Corps scuttlebutt. My boys have done a great job with a few bad apples mixed in of course."

"Listen Quill the hen house is still in a twist over these elections, how many voting machine boys I got to buy? Course you must have like my conciliatory demeanor on the tube hey Marine General?"

"You were born to talk sir, how is Slick Brainy these days? Did he blast anyone on that last bird shoot dealy?"

"Hush your mouth San Francisco Marine Sharpshooter, Slick sends his regards and will meet you at Raven's Haven during the holidays."

"Excuse me Fletcher we now have confirmation only Shelly and Terry survived..."

"Man, going to really miss those guys, here for a moment gone forever..."

"Sharon its me, please lower the castle flag to half mast until I return. Give Timba extra hugs and afew for yourself sweety. Back home in about a month."

(Another death in the family? Feasting and more feasting...)


Read about Fletcher Quill in earlier chapters:

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12 
13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21 
22  23  24  25  26  27  28  29  30 
  32  33  34  35  36  37  38  39 
40  41  42  43  44  45  46  47  48 
 49  50  51  52


Written by Dan Fallon © 2006
Illustrations by Phil Frank © 2003
Photos of fly by Dan Fallon © 2006

For Dan Fallon's earlier and later columns; visit the table of contents


Read Dan Fallons biography and contact info



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