DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 203 



volume of the burns and, as we neared the inn, 

 I heard the roar of water from the chief of the 

 streams which joins the Shiel about 200 yards from 

 home. The river was rising ; it rose while we 

 watched and sent us hurrying to our fly-books to 

 prepare for afternoon. 



The catches that day when put together made an 

 imposing show. There were seventy sea-trout and 

 a salmon of eleven pounds. Marcus became keener 

 than ever, while viewing the salmon as it hung on 

 a garden-seat between the splendid take of trout 

 ready for the photographer, and talked of not going 

 to bed for fear of a repetition of his dream of catch- 

 ing fish which had kept him sleeping far too late 

 that morning. 



In the evening the rain came down in torrents 

 and, after a lengthy wait, it was decided there 

 should be no fishing, so we had more songs until 

 bedtime came. 



Early-risers found the river looking even more 

 fit than on the previous day ; and there was much 

 evidence of impatience while waiting for breakfast 

 and at the meal itself. Some old-stagers have 

 learned to so control their feelings that you can see 

 no difference in them when a full river comes after 

 weeks of waiting. There were no masks upon 

 these youngsters' faces. Their chance had come ; 

 they knew it ; and they gave no thought to dis- 

 simulation. Eating became little but a mere stok- 

 ing. The sound of voices calling with a quip to the 

 servers of the varied dishes drove ultra-refinement 

 to the winds and we were just a tableful of noisy 

 scramblers. 



Sport all round was capital that day. The sea- 



