178 AUTUMNS IN ARGYLESHIRE 



eleven tiny balls of down into the reeds at the 

 far end for shelter. The boat is moored to a 

 small pier below me, padlocked to a chain and 

 rope, and I sit down and put my rod together, 

 while my attendant unfastens the padlock and 

 prepares to get all ready for a start. 



And now occurs the first misfortune of the 

 day. The gillie has duly unfastened the pad- 

 lock, but the chain is broken, and at the first 

 pull it comes away in his hands, leaving the 

 boat still floating out of reach. I ask him what 

 is to be done, and he replies that he must wade 

 for it; and after I have vainly endeavoured to 

 move it by throwing my light line across it, we 

 determine that wading is the only plan likely to 

 succeed. He is for going in at once, accoutred 

 as he is, but I impress upon him that there is 

 no hurry, and he so far indulges my weakness 

 as to consent to take off his shoes and stockings. 

 This does not, however, prevent his getting wet, 

 for the water is not merely well over his knicker- 

 bockers, but nearly up to his shoulders, before 

 he is able to reach the boat with a long stick. 

 While he is baling, I see a rise a little to the 

 left, just within reach of the shore, and as I 

 drop my fly with a longish line into the circle, 

 a little fellow rises boldly and takes the dropper, 

 although there is no ripple on the water. I 

 haul him out, pulling and struggling manfully 

 considering his size, and, as I land him, find 



