SCOTTISH SALMON-FISHING 185 



with the result that he did not fish again that season, 

 and we did well during the following days. But 

 habit is too strong in the typical Irishman. Sweeny 

 was cunning, and knew how we had caught him, 

 so next year he only poached from his boat, moored 

 at intervals on the stream. But a day of retribution 

 was at hand. One morning, having taken a little 

 too much whisky, he tried casting from his cranky 

 craft, and so toppled out of the boat and was 

 drowned. 



Looking back on all those pleasant days on the 

 Tay and other rivers, I can only recall one other 

 incident that is worth recording, but as it involved 

 a struggle such as I believe has fallen to no other 

 angler on the Tay, or perhaps even in Scotland, I 

 may be pardoned giving the adventure in full. 



In the autumn of 1891 I was doing duty at the 

 depot of my regiment, the Seaforth Highlanders, 

 at Fort George. Amongst my good comrades there 

 was a certain Captain (now General) Stockwell, 

 who had more than once expressed to me a burning 

 desire to kill a salmon. I promised him that his 

 wish should be realised provided he was able to throw 

 a line out for a distance of ten or fifteen yards. 

 Then I waited to hear from Murthly that the river 

 was in condition and full of fish. The expected 

 news came at last on October 5th, and we took the 

 first train for Dunkeld. Next day, as there were 

 other guests in the house, we drove to the lowest 

 beat of all — a stretch of river embracing the slow- 

 moving water below Caputh Bridge and Bum Bend 

 stream, and at once got to work. My friend was 

 given the boat with the two keepers, Haggart and 

 Conacher, whilst I went a few hundred yards lower 



