CHAPTER XV. 



A TRIP TO IRELAND. 



SOME years ago, when Ireland was greatly disturbed — it 

 was the year after Lord Leitrim's assassination — a party 

 of three, of which I formed one, decided to fish the Clady, 

 in Co. Donegal. We went via Belfast and Letterkenny, 

 bound for Gweedore. We had received many warnings 

 against our projected trip, and were told that the " Boys " 

 would not allow us to cross the mountains in our outside 

 cars on our long drive from Letterkenny. Death's heads 

 and crossbones, however, did not deter us, though our 

 car drivers were sufficiently impressed and alarmed to insist that, if 

 they took us, we should undertake to keep them at Gweedore until 

 we returned. This we had to concede, and off we set. 



The reports of the Clady were most temptingly satisfactory. The 

 malcontents had burnt the nets at the mouth of the river at Dum-Dum, 

 as they were the property of our landlord ; the fish had, therefore, a 

 clean run up the river. The talented author of " Three in Norway, by 

 One of Them," had taken a fabulous number of salmon shortly before 

 — report said fifty fish in one fortnight — so it was not likely that three 

 sturdy fishermen would be frightened by paper threats. As a proper 

 measure of protection we were each of us in possession of a revolver, 

 more for show, should occasion arise, than because we were likely to 



