164 The Confessions of a 'Poacher. 



lit up their faces with a red glow. The dis- 

 covery was a stroke of luck. We knew where 

 we had the water bailiffs, and the rest was easy. 

 We got quietly away from the spot, and soon 

 were at work in a pool further up stream. 

 No one but a gaunt heron objected to our 

 fishing, and we made a splendid haul. The 

 salmon and sea-trout had begun to run, 

 and swarmed everywhere along the reaches. 

 We hid our net in the " otter " holes, and, 

 under heavy loads, made for home across the 

 meadows. We were well aware that the local 

 police changed duty at six in the morning, and 

 timed our entry into town precisely at that 

 hour. But our absence of the previous night 

 had gone further abroad, and the local Angling 

 Association, the Conservancy Board, and the 

 police had each interested themselves in our 

 doings. It was quite unsafe to hide the spoil, 

 as was usual, and home it must be carried. I 

 was now alone. In the open I felt com- 

 paratively safe, but as I neared my destination 

 I knew not whom I should meet round the 

 next turn. Presently, however, it seemed as 



