A MONTH AT STRATH MAACOE 213 



the minister — for it was no less a personage, and I should 

 have as soon expected to see Old Nick himself — had the 

 fish cleverly ashore in a second; as I called out, "Well done, 

 sir ! " the good man looked half ashamed, but smiled bashfully 

 as he said, " Aweel, Mr. Gee, it would have been a pity indeed 

 to lose so fine a fish ; but I shall be obleeged to you if you will 

 not mention my interfeerence in the matter." 



Of course I agreed, and how that fish was caught, or by 

 whom it was gaffed, has ever remained a mystery in Strath- 

 maacoe forest, for reaching home unperceived in the dusk, 

 I took my prize to my bedroom, wrapped it in a clean towel, 

 locked it in a portmanteau, and then, in the dead of night, 

 when the household was snoring, I carried it on tiptoe to the 

 larder, where it was safely deposited on a stone slab. 



The minister's appearance on the scene was accounted for 

 by his seeing the top of my rod flash over the bank in the 

 sunlight, and being alone on the return journey, having given 

 his man leave to stay the rest of the day with some relations, 

 he had left his trap on the roadside, well aware that his horse 

 would stand for ever, and had come post-haste, full of indigna- 

 tion, to discover which of his parishioners was breaking the 

 Sabbath-day. Sad to relate, that, somehow or other, Dyke got 

 the credit of killing this fish, but the shameless chap took quite 

 kindly to the idea, and did all he could to encourage the 

 supposition. 



Thus ended my first and last Sunday fishing in Scotland. 

 To those people who do not fish, it may be surprising that 

 I risked damnation for a paltry twenty-pound salmon ; to those 

 people who do fish it may seem odd that I did not devote 

 other Sundays to the same sport ; thus, as there is no just 

 pleasing every one, I hope both fisher and non- fisher will 

 each forgive me for a first offence. 



7th. — Whilst finishing an early breakfast, a shepherd's lad 

 called at the Lodge on his way down the glen, to tell us there 

 were a great lot of stags on the far end of the beat that was 



