156 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



Now the hill-sides are scored with innumerable 

 little drains, which empty themselves into the burns, 

 which burns soon become impetuous torrents ; thus 

 suddenly supplied, the Ettrick, the Yarrow, the 

 Leader-water, the Ale, the Teviot, and the many 

 other streams that empty themselves into the 

 Tweed, come raving down from the mountains and 

 from the lakes, and, with their united volume, raise 

 that river to an alarming height in the space of a 

 few hours, which then spreads over the haughs, and 

 sometimes sweeps off corn and cattle, and levels the 

 bridges in its irresistible course. In these awful 

 spates, the water is too strong and turbid for fish to 

 travel : the soil is washed away partially from the 

 ploughed lands ; and, as the practice of liming 

 them is very prevalent, the waters are obnoxious 

 to the fish. I have often wondered how the trout 

 could possibly survive this state of things ; but 

 they do survive it, by keeping at the eddies and 

 close to the banks amongst the grass, where the 

 pout nets haul them out by dozens. 



Though I have given the foregoing instructions 

 with much pleasure, I would not advise any one 

 who wishes to stand well with society to utter 

 a word about his propensity for fishing. It is 

 generally thought a poor, inanimate occupation ; 

 and so, indeed, it is in some cases ; and yet the 

 passion is so strong, that I believe the sedentary 

 angler who catches a roach or dace, worthless 

 though he be, and weak and diminutive withal, 

 has as much pleasure in his way as the proud 

 conqueror of a twenty-pound salmon. 



I was once rowing: on the Thames when a 



