TWO MONTHS AT SPEYSIDE 169 



each. At last, as the fifth blank day was drawing to the usual 

 dismal end, I hooked and lost a salmon in the dusk, and, dis- 

 gusted beyond measure at my bad luck, I started off home at a 

 great pace. In a bend in the road overhung with trees I came 

 on Onions with his old gillie, Sandy Gralloch, who it was 

 quite easy to see was staggering along under a heavy burden. 

 As Charlie became aware of my approach he welcomed me 

 with a shout of joy, and turning back, he cried out, "Broken 

 the spell at last, my boy. There are three beauties in the 

 bag — twenty, seventeen, and eleven ! I hope you've got 

 something, too ? " 



" What extraordinary luck ! " I muttered to myself, and 

 joining Onions, I told him of my misfortune. 



By this time we were clear of the trees, and I felt the 

 consolation of tobacco was a necessity, so I said — 



"Well, Charlie, you lucky fellow, stop a minute, and, while 

 I fill my pipe, let us have a look at your fish." 



So a halt was called, while nothing loth to be quit of his 

 load, old Sandy deposited it at my feet, and whilst I, full of 

 envy, bent low over the basket. Onions looked proudly down 

 on me to remark — 



" There, now ! — beauties indeed, aren't they ? Just take 

 care you do as well to-morrow, for we have plenty of lost time 

 to make up." 



As I opened the basket the white sides of the fish gleamed 

 so brightly in the twilight, that for some seconds I enviously 

 feasted my eyes, then a something made me shift my hand 

 from the basket to the tail of the biggest fish. I turned it up, 

 dropped it, only to treat the other two in the same way ; then 

 I pulled their gills open, and prodded their sides with my 

 finger, the while a wicked grin stole over my face as I stood 

 up to exclaim — 



" Charlie, you old goose, they are just three kelts ; let's bury 

 'em, or we shall be fined." 



"Rubbish!" retorted Onions; "just like your nasty jeal- 

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