LONE LOCH WEE 8r 



rowing to discuss the advisability of landing and 

 taking it easy amongst the heather, while the boat 

 glided gently forward, when suddenly another large 

 fish came up with a great splash, and seized one 

 of my flies, nearly carrying the rod overboard. 



For a few exciting seconds the trout plunged 

 around us, and then made a rapid and most 

 fierce run. Ah I confound that bird ! the reel 

 was too stiff for the fine gut ; the line would not 

 run out quick enough, and again was the casting- 

 line snapped. I could have thrown that reel 

 overboard, and watched it sink to the bottom 

 with the greatest satisfaction. The mechanical 

 genius would no doubt have acted more sanely, 

 and have taken it to pieces. For my part, I was 

 absolutely crushed. Nemesis, in the shape of a 

 snipe, hovered around my path to punish me for 

 my sins of omission, and I felt that I should have 

 no further chance that day. But indeed, all said 

 and done, that was not the last chance ; for once 

 more was my fly taken by a giant trout while it 

 was being listlessly cast in the dead-calm water, 

 and once more, for the third time, was my tackle 

 ruthlessly broken. 



Let us not attempt to put down the weight of 



