108 DAYS AND NIGHTS OF SALMON FISHING. 



ingly, wedging its way through the secret glen, whilst 

 the eagle, but dimly seen, cleaves the winds and the 

 clouds, and the dun deer gaze from the mosses above. 

 There, amongst gigantic rocks, and the din of mountain 

 torrents, let me do battle with the lusty salmon, till I 

 drag him into day, rejoicing in his bulk, voluminous 

 and vast. 



But, alas ! we run riot. Let me now set forth by 

 what chance I became a fisher for salmon. Dining one 

 auspicious day with a friend in London, after a sultry 

 morning gratifying to nothing but a lizard or a serpent, 

 — the town hot, still, and deserted, as the ruins of 

 Pompeii, — we turned from the base thraldom to which 

 we had subjected ourselves, and resolved to wander 

 over the blue hills of Scotland ; " for we had heard of 

 grouse-shooting, and we longed to follow in the field 

 some lusty heath-cock." It was Wednesday. On Fri- 

 day we would depart, that was certain; for we were 

 young and ardent. Our travelling means were not 

 very rich : they consisted of a curricle with one horse 

 (his companion having died lately), and a tilbury 

 without any. But the next day there was to be a 

 sale at Tattersall's, which all juveniles delight in ; so 

 away we went to the hammer, rejoicing in our soi 

 disant judgment, and purchased two animals most 

 indubitably of the horse species. My friend accom- 

 modated himself with a chestnut, I with a mottled 

 grey ; and it would be difficult to say which of the 

 two had the best bargain. 



Now it chanced that these two nags never had harness 

 on their backs from the time of their foalhood ; but this 



