294 I n Coqiietdale. 



find welcome change. Mr. James Ferguson of Mor- 

 peth has given us the following about the Thrum : 



"About a mile below Rothbury, at the Thrum Mill, 

 the river yields a little snatch of bold and romantic 

 scenery. There, in earlier times, the pent-up waters 

 had to force their way through a barrier of sandstone ; 

 and the river is at the present time showing how it 

 was done, for at one point the entire body of water 

 forces its way in a serpentine course between rocks so 

 close that a steady brain and sure foot can step across, 

 but not without risk, which should not be lightly taken, 

 for it is evident that, beneath, the rocks must be scooped 

 and grooved out into huge tunnels and dark recesses 

 from which escape would be impossible. Here the 

 southern bank is an almost perpendicular face of 

 rugged rocks, festooned and wreathed with the foliage 

 of nature-planted bushes, and crowned with stately 

 trees." 



In one of Wilson's " Tales of the Borders," Willie 

 Faa, the gipsy king, is represented as leaping across 

 the Thrum with the stolen heir of Clennel Castle, and 

 leaving his pursuers behind. 



In old days it is said that much poaching was 

 practised here. Mr. D. D. Dixon, whose art it is to 

 combine business with pleasure, and delights to gather 

 up the folklore, old traditions, and local tales as he 

 goes his rounds, never failing to furnish us with new 

 and racy material, has some little records which abun- 

 dantly prove that the practice has not yet been discon- 

 tinued. And despite the custom so long carried on, it 

 is apparently profitable enough to entice men to the 

 adventure, even if the Coquet is not so rich in fish as 

 it once was, at all events, according to this report : 



"Talk o' fishin'," said an old Coquet angler, "there's 



