BRITISH SPORT PAST AND PRESENT 



reeds at the far end for shelter. The boat is moored to a small 

 pier below me, padlocked to a chain and rope, and I sit down 

 and, put my rod together, while my attendant unfastens the 

 padlock and prepares to get all ready for a start. And now 

 occurs the first misfortune of the day. The gillie has duly un- 

 fastened the padlock, but the chain is broken, and at the first 

 pull it comes away in his hands, leaving the boat still floating 

 out of reach. I ask him what is to be done, and he replies 

 that he must wade for it ; and after I have vainly endeavoured 

 to move it by throwing my light line across it, we determine 

 that wading is the only plan likely to succeed. He is for going 

 in at once, accoutred as he is, but I impress upon him that there 

 is no hurry, and he so far indulges my weakness as to consent to 

 take off his shoes and stockings. This does not, however, pre- 

 vent his getting wet, for the water is not merely well over his 

 knickerbockers, but nearly up to his shoulders, before he is able 

 to reach the boat with a long stick. While he is baling, I see a 

 rise a little to the left, just within reach of the shore, and as I 

 drop my fly with a longish line into the circle, a little fellow 

 rises boldly and takes the dropper, although there is no ripple 

 on the water. I haul him out, pulling and struggling man- 

 fully considering his size, and, as I land him, find that there is 

 a second one attached to the tail-fly, and that I have caught 

 two with my first cast. They are not so long as my hand, but 

 I do not put them back again, for there are really too many 

 fish in the loch, and it would be a good thing to reduce the 

 stock. Besides, they are excellent for breakfast, and if I am 

 too particular about size, it is quite probable that there may 

 not be enough for a fry. The ordinary run of fish in this loch 

 is about three to a pound, and one is lucky if one gets one of 

 over a pound in a good day's fishing. 



' And now commences the familiar but imsatisfactory 

 process of hunting the breeze. We gaze round the loch, and 

 make up our minds that the best chance will be in the little 

 bay under the birches, where there appears to be a tiny ripple. 

 As soon as we arrive there, it has entirely disappeared, and 



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