A DAY OF TRIBULATION 125 



me to my thoughts of Job and his exaggerated 

 griefs. 



After this I wandered upstream for a long way with- 

 out troubling to fish until the crowning misfortune of 

 the day fell upon me. For some distance the river had 

 run through open moorland, but now I came to a field 

 and surmounted a stile. Halfway across I became 

 aware of approaching thunder, and, looking round, per- 

 ceived that a herd of cattle was stampeding in my 

 direction, apparently of set purpose. To avoid unprofit- 

 able argument, I stepped hurriedly down the steep bank 

 into the river, which was just not deep enough to over- 

 top my waders. The cattle reached the bank above, 

 and watched me with indignation as I began to make 

 my way across. Then, as though by concerted arrange- 

 ment, a fresh enemy appeared on the other side a big, 

 evil-looking black dog, which had the air of one accus- 

 tomed to protect homesteads. It stood and waited for 

 me in grim silence. Then it was that I took the solemn 

 oath to give up fishing, not only for that day, but for 

 all time, if only I should win safely out of my parlous 

 situation. I have no doubt that there was nothing to 

 fear from either dog or cattle, but my nerves were upset 

 by calamity. The rest is a tale of splashing down- 

 stream until I got back to the moor below the cattle 

 and away from the dog. Incidentally I broke the top 

 of my rod and filled my waders, and had to walk home 

 in dire discomfort and in heavy rain. As to the solemn 

 oath, it was kept for a whole day. The day after, 

 however, was the perfection of fishing weather, and the 

 river had fined down nicely. 



