114 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



because it was unlucky, which is much the same 

 thing. 



I was now under the influence of some better 

 spirit of the flood ; for I absolutely landed two 

 gilse of six pounds each in a cast called the Noirs. 

 Wattie, seeing my rod bent, came up : he said but 

 little ; but that little was the most unqualified 

 abuse of my mismanagement. The fact is, I treated 

 the gilse just as I would have treated a trout ; a 

 very base mistake. I bagged them, however, not- 

 withstanding — thanks to the excellence of the 

 channel. 



The next cast I came to was called the Brig-end ; 

 and here I hooked a fine salmon : he was brave 

 and strenuous, and so ponderous, that it seemed 

 as if my hook had caught hold of a floating Nor- 

 wegian pine, "fit for the mast of some high 

 ammiral." After various eccentric courses, Master 

 Fish made a sudden and desperate rush down the 

 river ; — out went my line with a whirring rattle, 

 and cut one of my fingers sharply. I followed as 

 best I might, prancing in the water like a war- 

 horse, with the spray about my ears. Wattie 

 hallooed out, and said I know not what ; but the 

 tone of his voice was far from being complimentary. 

 Nearly all my line of a hundred yards was now run 

 out ; when the fish made a sudden turn, crossed to 

 the opposite bank, and coasted up it amongst the 

 rocks. Here again Wattie was perfectly wild. 



" Gang back, I tell ye ! — hand up yer gaud ! — 

 shorten yer line ! — keep aboon him, ye gomrell ! 

 Ou, ye are drownit as sure as deeth ! Pirn in, pirn 

 in ! — pirn out, pirn out ! Gang forrat, gang forrat ! 



