92 THE SALMON 



For a time all went well : the fish rose freely and 

 greedily, as they often do on a loch in the most 

 disagreeable weather, and before we had finished 

 the drift we had secured over two dozen sea-trout, a 

 big brown fish, and four peel, and were congratulating 

 ourselves on our pluck and foresight, and thinking 

 what a laugh we should have at the less venturesome 

 sportsmen who were cultivating the fireside while we 

 were enjoying such excellent sport. But the end was 

 not yet, and the laugh turned out to be not altogether 

 so entirely on our side as we supposed. In the first 

 place we had to fulfil our pledge of rowing home in 

 the teeth of the wind ; but when my companion, a 

 stalwart and practised oarsman, bent himself to the 

 job with a vigorous pull, the cra/y oar snapped short 

 in the middle, and the boat swung round, nearly 

 capsi/.ing, and shipping a quantity of water. For a time 

 we tried the three oars, but the balance was so bad 

 and trimmed the boat so awkwardly, that the attempt 

 was soon abandoned as hopeless, and we continued 

 the voyage in our waterlogged craft with two rowers 

 and two passengers. Our progress was terribly slow, 

 the wind had increased in violence, and although our 

 boatmen stuck gallantly to their work, we could 

 perceive from their faces and their muttered appeals 

 to the Virgin and the saints that they did not feel at 



