158 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



to our aqueous pastime. It is true that the late 

 John Lord Somerville objected to our tent, as 

 being a white object, and therefore likely to 

 prevent the fish from passing by it to his upper 

 water. But we proved to him, by mathematical 

 lines adroitly drawn, that it was not within the 

 range of a salmon's optics. So our tent stood, till 

 a violent storm assailed us one night with barbarous 

 fury, tore up the pegs to which the ropes were 

 fastened, and gave up all our canvass to the winds. 

 Thus, we got an ample soaking in our bed, in 

 which we cut a pretty figure, no doubt, when dis- 

 closed to public gaze ; but we were not blown into 

 the Tweed ; so that, upon the whole, we were 

 uncommonly fortunate. But we discard ourselves 

 for the present. 



I say then, and will maintain it, that a salmon 

 fisher should be strong in the arms, or he will 

 never be able to keep on thrashing for ten or 

 twelve hours together with a rod eighteen or 

 twenty feet long, with ever and anon a lusty 

 salmon at the end of his line, pulling like a wild 

 horse with the lasso about him. Now he is obliged 

 to keep his arms aloft, that the line may clear the 

 rocks ; now he must rush into the river, then back 

 out with nimble pastern, always keeping a steady 

 and proper strain of line ; and he must preserve his 

 self-possession, even in the very tempest and whirl- 

 wind of the sport, when the salmon rushes like a 

 rocket. This is not moody work ; it keeps a man 

 alive and stirring. Patience, indeed ! 



It is indispensable to have a quick eye, and a 

 ready hand : your fly, or its exact position, should 



