54 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



living salmon plunging about, and still in their 

 native element. Upon securing the fish, the men 

 were in the habit of giving them the coup de grace 

 on the forehead with a wooden mallet — analogous 

 to my fishing-rod butt ; and at each successive 

 stroke on the brain, the colours undulated away in 

 the most delicate and beautiful radiance. All this 

 is, indeed, exceedingly revolting to humanity, and 

 presents a tempting theme for the reprobation of 

 the poet and sentimentalist ; and yet I confess that 

 I cannot enter completely into this feeling, not 

 only from my enjoyment of, and relish for, the 

 sport of rod-fishing, but even from considerations 

 of a more legitimate bearing. I do not think that 

 cold-blooded animals suffer equally with warm- 

 blooded ; and my grounds for forming this opinion 

 I shall shortly state. I have often lost a trout 

 which had gorged my bait, and yet recaptured him 

 in a short time with the former hook deep fastened 

 in his stomach, and the broken line pending from 

 his jaws. I, for one, certainly should have had 

 little appetite to dine so soon after swallowing 

 a fork. I have seen a large trout enjoying 

 the amplitude of a clear pond with a couple of my 

 fly -hooks appended to his nose. Nay, I have 

 even witnessed him rising to a natural fly in this 

 situation, whilst, fisher -like, he caught a smaller 

 companion by the depending hook. Nature is 

 wonderfully benevolent to her children. The 

 absence of all kind of medical aid in the waters 

 seems to be fully compensated by the vis medicatrioc 

 natures — an old experienced practitioner, by whose 

 management the most severe wounds made by the 



