OTTER, HAUNTS. 235 



There is a lake still farther up the mountains, and some 

 hundred feet ahove the level of these loughs, which produces 

 trout not more remarkable for size than for their peculiarity 

 in never rising at a fly, or taking a hait ; and yet they are 

 frequently observed by the herdsmen who frequent the valley 

 where the lake is situated, rising over the water, or, to use 

 their own phrase, "tumbling about like dogs." From the 

 known attachment of the lower classes of this country to 

 indulge in "the wild and wonderful," their size or existence 

 might be doubtful, were it not that they run like eels in the latter 

 part of a harvest, and at that season are taken, after a flood, 

 in the pools of the little river, which communicates directly 

 with the lake. These trout have been found to weigh 

 upwards of twelve pounds, and are said to be in shape and 

 colour like large gillaroos, and of superior flavour when 

 brought to table. 



The otter-killer declares that he fished this lake repeatedly, 

 and while he exhausted all his piscatory skill, he never could 

 induce a trout to rise. He recollects, however, hearing "when 

 a boy," that there was formerly an old man, who resided con- 

 tiguous to the lake, who caught trout most plentifully near the 

 centre of the water, by floating lines across it, their ends being 

 attached to the 1'egs of geese ; but he admits his belief that 

 this was but a popular conceit, and wisely comes to a con- 

 clusion, " that there is a sea-horse, or some such devil in the 

 lough, which prevents the fish from taking fly or worm."* 



Three days have passed, and the weather has been wet and 

 boisterous. The moors have become soft, and are now very 

 distressing to traverse. The grouse have deserted their cus- 

 tomary haunts, are found with difficulty, and, from their wild- 

 ness, will hardly stand the dogs. Winter is fast approaching, 

 and the time is close at hand when the cabin must be aban- 

 doned for the more substantial comforts of the Lodge. 



And I shall leave this hut and these hills with sincere re- 

 gret. Palled with the pleasures of the world, I found here 

 that rude, but real happiness, which for years before I had 

 sought in vain. Here I associated with a new order of beings. 



* In the neighbourhood of Minola, there is a lake called Carramore, 

 where the trout are said to be equally large, and in refusing baits arid 

 flies equally refractory. I have never fished the water, or seen the trout ; 

 but they are taken during harvest floods, in a mill-race, which runs 

 directly from the lough ; their size is from four to ten pounds. 



