LOCH FISHING. 49 



into the shadows, as that splash fully indicated. You can't see your 

 line, nor where he is. Never mind, keep his head up, and, above all 

 things, keep him away from the boat until he is done. He fights well, 

 but the contest is a very one-sided one ; he cannot beat you as his 

 brother of the river often can, and in due course he is netted. 



Now dry your fly well ; or, better still, put on that other hare's 

 ear you have already mounted upon a point of gut. We have rather 

 disturbed this water ; let us move a bit further up the bank. The rises 

 are sadly infrequent, perhaps, but a brace of good fish taken under such 

 circumstances is worth catching, especially as the loch is generally 

 considered to be an early one, and the fishing to end in June for all 

 practical purposes. If only you will try it, this floating fly work will 

 add a very great interest to your enjoyment of your lovely loch. 



Perhaps I may be treating this subject somewhat too cavalierly, and 

 unduly emphasising my own views and predilections. Certainly I am 

 free to admit that I have enjoyed many pleasant days on our Scottish 

 lochs. One particular day stands out pre-eminently in my recollections. 

 I was staying at a shooting lodge near Pitlochry, and the famous Loch 

 Broom was within the precincts of our moor. To reach it we had a 

 longish walk and stiff climb, as it lies on the far side of a high, 

 saddle-backed line of hills. There were three boats on the loch, and 

 one of them belonged to my host. 



I was told that it was heavily stocked with good fish, but that 

 a strong breeze was necessary if good results were to be obtained. 

 In due course a gillie and I sallied forth one morning, somewhat late 

 in the season, armed with rods, tackle, and flies, to see what Loch 

 Broom would do for us. There certainly promised to be an ample 

 supply of wind to start with, and, as the day wore on, it had no 

 tendency whatever to go down, but rather to increase unduly ; and 

 when we reached the loch side after our six or seven mile walk, we 

 found miniature foam-crested billows on its surface ; in fact, rather more 

 than we had bargained for. The boat had been merely grounded in 

 the rushes at the loch side, and required baling out and adjusting. 

 Intending to lose no time, I speedily put up my rod and my cast of 

 three flies and placed it in the stern of the boat in order to soak the 

 cast, then devoting my attention to the assistance of the gillie, who 



H 



