GROUSE 193 



Evidently he has had a bite, and, striking " not 

 wisely but too well," has caught not the fish, 

 but the telegraph wire. There is nothing for 

 it but a break, for even if he could swarm up 

 one of the posts, the hook would still be out 

 of his reach. We cannot wait to see the finale, 

 but until we turn the corner the connection is 

 still complete. 



When we turn again to the right, it is easy 

 enough to see that we are skirting the course of 

 what was once a far mightier stream, but one 

 that has been diverted in prehistoric times and 

 by no human hand. We are now within three 

 miles of Loch Awe, on a nearly level road, and 

 the traces of a large river are clearly visible imme- 

 diately below us. Under the precipitous wooded 

 hill to our left, great water-worn boulders show 

 where a grand pool must formerly have been, 

 but pheasants and rabbits are feeding where 

 salmon and trout once lurked. Doubtless this 

 was once the course of the River Awe, and 

 there would be no great engineering difficulty 

 in letting the lake run this way again. A little 

 bit farther on, where we turn off the main 

 road, the two small lochs where the wild ducks 

 and coot are feeding, as well as the burn we 

 pass on our way up the brae, discharge their 

 waters into Loch Awe. 



The road here degenerates into a mere farm 

 track, very steep in places ; but we have not 



N 



