TWO RED LETTER SALMON 119 



omit the after-breakfast descent of the steep-wooded 

 brae down to the boat animated with eager anticipa- 

 tion, and the climbing home in the gloaming in whatever 

 mood the events of the day had warranted. 



The Carham fishing is really the lower and the southern 

 section of Birgham, famous for its dub, the rival in 

 piscatorial fame of Sprouston, a little higher up-stream. 

 Its situation immediately above Coldstream and not 

 far from Berwick makes it a characteristic water for the 

 salmon fisher. The incoming fish sometimes linger 

 there awhile early and late in the season, and men catch 

 salmon at Carham while those in the higher beats are 

 waiting their arrival or bewailing their disappearance. 

 Here, too, you may hook your fish in Scotland and 

 land it in England, for the Tweed begins to be the 

 boundary between the two countries at Carham burn. 



The Tweed is picturesque rather than romantic, as 

 are so many of the Highland rivers. They have their 

 legions of admirers, but there is no Scottish stream that 

 can count so many ardent lovers as the Tweed, and 

 this for many reasons. It has much varied and posi- 

 tive picturesqueness of its own, it has associations of 

 legend and history; Walter Scott lived on its banks, 

 and its dividing course between the nations that used 

 to harry or be harried invests it with an abiding in- 

 terest. As a river it is distinguished by a charac- 

 teristic dignity, and, save at its narrowed channel and 

 rocky bed at Makerstoun, maintains a stately yet irre- 

 sistible strength of flow from Kelso seawards. Never- 

 theless, there are times when it shows moods of sullen 

 rage, and is certainly too full for the angler, to whom, 

 in spite of faults, it is always Tweed, the well-beloved. 



" How is she the morn ? " is, therefore, a common 

 question amongst all sorts and conditions of men along 

 Tweedside in the fishing seasons, and at the visit now 



