416 THE SALMON RIVERS OF SCOTLAND 



dry summer do hinder the salmon from going higher up, and 

 here it is that Vicecount of Kenmuir, as Bayly to the Abbacy 

 of Tongueland, hath priviledge of a Bayly-day, and fenceth 

 the river for eight or ten days in the summer time prohibiting 

 all persons whatsoever to take any salmon in that space so that 

 at the day appointed, if it have been a dry season, there is to 

 be had excellent pastime ; the said Vicecount with his friends 

 and a multitude of other people coming thither to the fishing 

 of salmon which being enclosed in pooles and places among 

 the Rocks, men go in and catch in great abundance with their 

 hands, speares, listers, etc., yea, and with their very dogs." 



An engine which persists to the present time the shoulder 

 net may have had its origin from the " excellent pastime " 

 referred to. This engine is like a gigantic shrimp -net or land- 

 ing-net, fitted to a pole 24 feet long. The netting is about 

 6 feet deep, and is suspended from an iron rim of a rough 

 semi-circular shape measuring about 5 feet X 7 ft. 3 in., 

 the greater measurement being transverse. The net is balanced 

 on the right shoulder of the fisherman, the handle or pole 

 resting on a wooden cranse or slipper strapped to the shoulder ; 

 the mouth is turned downwards, and the bag of the net gathered 

 at the base of the pole. With the contrivance in this position 

 the fisherman who has to be a man of some strength sallies 

 forth along the rocks after dark. Approaching, let us say, his 

 favourite little pool, called the Black Pot, he throws the net as 

 a man does a spear, and immediately presses downwards on 

 the handle, dragging the net towards him, and at the same 

 time swinging it so as to search all the corners of the pool. 

 Three or four places below the Doachs and down to the road 

 bridge, are fished in the same way. I have watched the 

 operation on a fine summer night, and the scene is not without 

 a certain fascination. The moving figures, the constant rush 

 of the water over the rocks, the blackness of the shadows, the 

 tall trees and the old mill blend beautifully ; while the sheen 

 of the fish splashing in the net as they are lifted out, echoes 

 the play of the moon on the water ; but the whole is to my 

 mind grievously marred by the feeling that the business comes 

 so very near to the old and equally picturesque leistering, now 

 done away with. I shouldn't mind seeing Indians spearing 

 the spawning fish in the creek of some Pacific coast river where 



