158 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



rod stretching out through the branches that over- 

 hang a deep, gravel-bottom hole in which my worm- 

 baited hook invited attention. This effort at sport 

 was so little exciting that I stretched myself upon 

 the grass, and I must have slumbered, for nowhere 

 could I see the fish I thought I'd caught. " Morning 

 dreams come true " is a very old saying in my county 

 and, as if in confirmation of this faith, my rod bent 

 down its point and there came a little flutter some- 

 where near my chest as I hastened to see the cause. 

 " Oh ! drat the flies, and may slimy eels that knot 

 one's lines beyond unravelling have someone more 

 eloquent than myself to talk to them ! Phew ! how 

 hot it is in these low-lying highland glens ! " 



Grass-crowned hills, looking like huge pokes of 

 freshly-made hay, were all around me and over them 

 fleecy clouds were being hurried, telling of wind 

 above ; but not a breath came down. Humid heat 

 rose, from bog and water, and no aid from toil was 

 needed to cause poor me to mop my brow with such 

 frequency that it soon began to smart. 



A herd of cattle, unnoticed until then, came scam- 

 pering by with tails outstretched at extraordinary 

 angles, some quite upright. One poor cow, almost 

 tail-less, was evidently more plagued than any of the 

 others, as shown by the mad pace at which she 

 careered past, wildly kicking, making for a leafy 

 bush into which she backed and waited for her 

 companions. 



Then there came a buzzing in my ears followed 

 by tiny pin-pricks which hastened the movement of 

 the hand that held the cambric mop until there was 

 a never-ceasing swirl of a damp rag closely dotted 

 with dead midges. 



