EEMINISCENCES OF THE LEWS. 107 



fell to the ground, as the river, from source to 

 sea, lochs and all, belonged to me. The dam 

 is six miles from the sea, and there is no trap 

 or net of any sort to catch the fish, for may 

 this hand wither if ever it assails the noble 

 Salmo solar with a heavier weapon than an 

 honest, well-dressed, light-cast fly ! And so 

 they had but to grin and bear it. And so then 

 they changed the burden of their song. They 

 condoled with my ignorance ; they besought me, 

 for my own sake, not to ruin my river, to spoil 

 my own sport. Poor dear, considerate souls ! 

 And they adduced a wonderful proof of the 

 mischief I was doing myself; which, by the 

 way, got into print. A particular spate they 

 said I had sent down had stirred up all the 

 black mud in the river, sent it right in the 

 teeth of a shoal of fish taking the river, and 

 driven the fastidious creatures back to sea, 

 where 300 of them were taken in the nets that 

 night ; as if a natural spate never stirred up 

 mud at all ! 



A charming story — pity it was not true ; for, 

 unfortunately, that year being the last of the 

 bag-net lease, and not wishing any disputes, I 

 had never put my sluices in operation. They 

 were safely housed in my stable ! But some 

 very ingenious workmen employed to gas-tar a 



