SPIRIT OF THE CHASE 7 



five miles of wary scrambling up a mountain, I 

 found myself within range of a red-deer. " Now ! " 

 whispered the crouching stalker, meaning that I 

 was to fire when he should put the stag up, and 

 make him fair game, by whistling. He whistled. 

 Fire? That was the one act of which I was in- 

 capable ! I could not even raise the rifle. I could 

 not think. I was vacuous. Volition was gone. It 

 did not return until the stag was trotting over the 

 sky-line. Stag-fright is no superstition. It is a 

 cerebral state involving a strange and paralysing 

 play upon the nerves. Still, I think that the 

 equivalent excitement in salmon fishing is quite as 

 lofty. It is not so dramatic; but that is only 

 because in salmon fishing you are even less a volun- 

 tary agent. There is not the same long working-up 

 to the critical moment. You know when you are at 

 the red-deer, and then are struck as with a palsy, 

 but you have no warning as to when the salmon will 

 be at you, and are perforce comparatively resigned 

 when he is. He lies unseen, and comes unexpectedly ; 

 and you are not so much as in deer-stalking de- 

 pendent upon yourself. The stag cannot be shot 

 by any action of his own; but the salmon may be 

 hooked without deliberate effort on your part. 

 Often he hooks himself and the issue is joined before 

 you have time to be alarmed. 



Nevertheless, there are known cases of salmon- 

 fright. Any one who loses his first fish is liable to 

 the infliction. On Loch Voil one of His Majesty's 

 Judges was catching trout. Suddenly, while he was 



