i 9 4 ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 



the sources of which we conjectured ourselves at the 

 summit of no inconsiderable hill. There, however, 

 the mist was thick, rapid, and impenetrable, and a 

 cold rain slanted athwart us, in large, ugly drops. 

 Somewhat breathless with our upward ascent, we 

 planted ourselves upon a tuft of thick heather, and, as 

 the phrase goes, took our morning from the flask of 

 mountain dew and its accompanying quaich which, 

 as a matter of course, we carried along with us. One 

 plaid it was under which both of us, for the space of 

 several minutes, were sheltered ; but soon again we 

 started along the level moss, with a strong, quick step, 

 anxious to make the best of our time, and gain with- 

 out delay the wished-for stream. But, wanting a 

 compass, we had to struggle through a cursed obliterat- 

 ing fog ; and although at the first instinctive of our 

 course, we soon began to lose all knowledge of where 

 we were. Track there was none among the chaos of 

 moss-hags round about us. A solitary heath-cock 

 whirred up in our van, and took its own path through 

 the humid air, but we had no wings to follow the 

 phantom bird ; and the one-eyed pointer which accom- 

 panied us returned shivering to our feet, in marvel 

 that the game had not dropped dead before her, out of 

 sheer courtesy to her splendid abilities. And now a 

 ragged sheep, seeming huge as a lion, started up at 

 our side it dived forward into the cloud, and vanished 

 as if evaporated. But on we held, as our fancies 

 directed us, having at whiles a dim, indistinct memory 



