92 ANGLING & ART IN SCOTLAND 



I could, I thought I could," which again quickly 

 merges into a mere blind rush through the air, 

 only periodically broken by the crash of the train 

 passing through an arch as it tears its way down 

 the hill towards Carlisle. 



See! a wan, grey light begins to creep in from 

 behind the blind. May has scarcely arrived, but 

 the early dawn is stealing over the land. If you 

 look out of the window you will see the country 

 dimly in a blur of mysterious grey light. Far 

 away to the east, on the slopes of the mountains 

 which form the boundary between Westmorland 

 and Yorkshire, a long red gleam of fire may be 

 seen — a patch of burning heather. Now a net- 

 work of lines appears heralding the approach to 

 "Merry Carlisle," where a "Caledonian" engine is 

 attached, which will take us across the Border and 

 on by Gretna Green and the long pull up to Beat- 

 tock, and then again at furious speed down the 

 valley of the Clyde, until we come to the black 

 country of Scotland with its glowing furnaces and 

 dreary pit-heaps. It is not long before the train 

 slackens for Stirling, outpost of the Highlands, 

 where you must change if your destination is on 

 the Callander and Oban line. But to-day we keep 



