I A Gossip on a SutJierland Hill-side 275 



walk up to the salmon-leap at the Falls of the Shin, 

 one of the prettiest bits of white foam, black swirl, 

 gray rock, and feathery birch, that ever gladdened 

 an artist's eye ; and on Sunday afternoon, when the 

 * Slaps ' are open, the bright silver bars, springing 

 up at the falling sheet of liquid amber, give a life 

 and spirit to the scene which no mere tumble of 

 water can ever possess. You may sit there musing 

 happily hour after hour, till the red sunbeams stream 

 horizontally through the silver-stemmed birch, and 

 the cold damp reek of the cauldron warns you 

 home ; and as you go, you may, if you are romantic- 

 ally given, ponder on the fact that Ossian began 

 life as a herd-boy in Glen Shin. 



In these enlightened days it is perhaps necessary 

 to mention that salmon do not put their tails in 

 their mouths preparatory to making a leap ; they 

 give a series of sharp sculling strokes with their 

 broad helms, which sends them sheer out of the 

 water four feet and more. If their sharp noses 

 strike the sheet of falling water, they penetrate into 

 it, and, continuing the original sculling motion, force 

 themselves upwards in the most marvellous fashion ; 

 but the least turn to either side exposes a slight 

 surface to the rush of water, and then down they go 

 ignominiously into the black swirl again. 



If you are very much in want of a fish, you can 

 go and sit close to the edge of the fall, armed with 

 a gaff, and strike the fish that alight on the rock 

 before they wriggle back ; but it is not a course I 



