SALMON FISHING 



black smoke. As the rude forms of the men rose up in their 

 dark attire, wielding their long leisters, with the streaks of 

 light that glared partially upon them, and surrounded as they 

 were by the shades of night, you might almost have fancied 

 yourself in the realms below, with Pluto and his grim associates, 

 embarked on the Stygian lake. But as the sports began, and 

 as the Scotch accent prevailed, the illusion passed away ; for 

 no poet, that I am aware of, has made the above swarthy and 

 mysterious personages express themselves in the language of 

 Tweedside ; nor could one fancy salmon in the Styx, though 

 they might well disport in the streams of the happy fields 

 beyond. 



' " Now, my lads," says the master, " take your places. 

 Tom, stand you next to me : Sandy, go on the other side of 

 Tom ; and do you, Jamie, keep in the middle, and take tent to 

 cap the boats well over the rapids. Rob, do you and Tom 

 Purdie keep good lights and fell the fish. Halloo, Tom, you 

 have smuggled a leister into the boat for your own use." 



' " Ay, ay, that have I, joust for mine ain deversion, ve 

 ken." 



' " Well, well, you may just keep it, for you are a stout 

 chiel, and it would be hard work to get it from you ; besides, 

 no one can use it more dexterously than yourself. Now, then, 

 we will pvish the boat up the cheek of the stream till we come 

 to the head of it. That Avill do. Now shoot her across the 

 gorge, and down she goes merrily, broadside foremost, accord- 

 ing to rule. Cap, Charlie, cap, man ! we are drifting down 

 like mad ; keep back your end of the boat." 



' " Aweel, aweel, she gangs cannily now ; look, uncle, a 

 niuckle fish before ye ; or ever ye kent, the maister's leister 

 gaed through him, and played auld dife. That side, that side, 

 Jamie ; — he 's rinnin up to get past. Od, ye have him ; and 

 I hae anither, and anither. Keep a gude light, Tom. Now 

 let us tak up the boat to the head of the stream, or ever we 

 look the stanes, for there war a muckle fish gaed bv that none 

 o' ye gomrells ever saw. There, we are high eneuch now ; 



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