ACROSS THE MOOR 301 



peat-hags, we may miss for a time the object of our 

 search. Still, confidently enough, we move forward. 



The way is interesting ; but the pack is heavy. 

 A long day lies before us and we are well, probably 

 too well, prepared. In addition to a complete 

 equipment for both dry-fly and wet-fly fishing and 

 a generous lunch basket, we carry along wading 

 stockings and a pair of canvas rope-soled boots. 

 The latter are almost useless for wading a river, 

 where weight and plentiful nails are required to 

 enable one to withstand a strong current ; but for 

 use in a loch they are highly satisfactory, and they 

 do not, moreover, add seriously to the burden on 

 the back. It is well to take them to an unknown 

 loch, for it may possess shallow bays, where wading 

 must be undertaken if the trout are to be reached. 



Contentedly we plod along under the sun over 

 the open moor. The fine, fresh breeze is welcome, 

 not only because it is pleasantly cool, but also 

 because it promises good fishing conditions. We 

 reach a loch, long, narrow, and completely filled 

 with weeds and reeds. It is one of our guides and, 

 being expected and impossible of confusion with 

 the object of the expedition, the sight of it occasions 

 only a little alarm. We had noted it on the map 

 as lying on and directing our route, and we had also 

 entertained hopes of casting a fly over it on the 

 return journey. It may be well stocked with fish, 

 but it is unfishable, and it arouses fears that the 

 farther loch may be similarly impossible. We carry 

 on less confident than before. 



At length on rounding the shoulder of a hill, we see 

 lying before us a beautiful sheet of water, surrounded 

 on all sides by an irregular ridge which delays dis- 



