22 ANGLING & ART IN SCOTLAND 



on his way. But that was not the end of it ; for 

 no sooner had fresh tackle and another tempting 

 worm been adjusted, than a similar monster of 

 the deep took it into his head to swallow the bait. 



This time I raised a cry of alarm, and was 

 shortly joined by the Skipper. Both of us held 

 on to the rod in a sort of vague dread lest some 

 uncanny beast had got hold of the line, and would, 

 by some devilish cantrip, snatch the rod from out 

 our very clutches. We also expanded our lungs 

 in sending forth many searching yells for the 

 landing-net, which happened at the time to be in 

 the custody of John and the Duke, a little higher 

 up the river. 



Fortunately our strenuous cries were heard ; 

 and never shall I forget the sight I gained (while 

 casting backward glances) of John's small, though 

 agile figure, bounding over the heather, shouting 

 the while encouragements to us to hold on until 

 he could arrive. Once, in his mad career, he fell 

 flat in a side-burn ; again he unwarily tripped over 

 an unexpected boulder ; and lastly, when nearing 

 us, did he disappear bodily into a deep mass of 

 heather, only the shaft of the landing-net being 

 visible for some seconds, wildly twitching in the 



