'Guardians of the Salmon', as the author dryly points out, is not about the pink or red salmon but the one species of Atlantic Salmon, 'a fish that . . . would not be seen dead in a tin'.

Conservation of the splendid fish in the rivers of the West Country is the subject of this book and not the where and when of angling.

Salmon enter rivers from the sea throughout the year on their 'maiden' spawning migration, making their way upstream in search of spawning gravels.

Author Gordon Beilby rightly states that it may not rank with a million wildebeest crossing the Serengeti but the sight of a salmon making the arduous river journey is still a thrill 'in a modest, British way'.

I recall being startled while walking beside the River Tavy in the heart of Tavistock when in a colourful flash one of these magnificent fish leapt the weir by Abbey Bridge.

Salmon have been mentioned throughout history. A 17th century Italian traveller noted that the rivers around Plymouth produced a 'great quantity' of salmon. Crossing the Tamar in 1724, Daniel Defoe thought it held 'vast numbers' of good fat salmon.

As far back as 140 years ago, a Royal Commission appointed to increase the supply of salmon heard detailed evidence about the plight of the fish.

The commission's report, albeit modest, was a turning point in the battle to save the salmon.

The Dart Board (sic) tried to improve the Dart's fish production by having ponds built on small side streams where they grew weeds off which it was hoped shrimps, insects and snails would be washed into the river.

The Cornwall Board, for which the author worked, tried to help the breeding process in 1959 by creating a fish sanctuary in the upper reaches of the tidal Tamar.

But there were and still are threats to the salmon in the South West; lethal diseases such as an outbreak that started in Co Kerry in the 1960s and, like its victim, 'jumped' across to the Solway Firth. Within two years it killed thousand of salmon in the region.

Sewage, mine waste and industrial effluents also took their toll. The practice of employing bailiffs began in the 1860s to combat the plague of poaching - large gangs, 50 or 60 strong, with blackened faces, armed with salmon spears, gathered after dark on river banks at spawning time and would spear fish by torchlight.

Relationships between bailiffs and poachers, Beilby writes, has ranged from mutual respect - the sending of Christmas cards has been known - to deep, mutual hatred.

Being a bailiff can be a tough job. In one case, a poacher cracked a bailiff hard on the head and, no doubt much to the victim's chagrin, was fined £8 for poaching but just a quid for the assault. And it was left to the GIs in world war two to adopt a none-too-subtle method of poaching — they simply lobbed grenades into salmon pools and harvested the catch.

The authorities turned a blind eye. After all, there was a war on . . .

'Guardians of the Salmon' is no boring tome of the whys and wherefores of conservation. It is an easily readable and often humorous look at an important subject that will fascinate learned exponent and layman.

l 'Guardians of the Salmon' by Gordon H Beilby is published by Halsgrove, price £16.95.

COLIN BRENT