CHILL OCTOBER 219 



arrive at Dunadd, where we intend to stop for 

 lunch. 



Dunadd is a queer-shaped solitary hill rising 

 out of the flat moss, and a keeper stationed there 

 with a good glass can spy a poacher on any pool 

 in the river from Kilmichael to Crinan, which 

 accounts for the fact that unlawful rod-fishing 

 by day is a form of poaching seldom attempted. 

 At its foot, in a snug little recess under a rock 

 overgrown with lastrea and lady-fern, a beautiful 

 little ice-cold spring marks an ideal halting-place ; 

 and as it is the only well for some miles, and 

 close to a first-rate stretch of the river, luncheon 

 is so often served there between one and two that, 

 but for our tidy habit of burning our paper when 

 we light our pipes, the grass around it would re- 

 semble the Green Park after a Bank Holiday. 

 There the game is laid out, and we dispose of half 

 a cold grouse, some bread-and-butter, egg sand- 

 wiches with a little cress in them, and a slice of 

 cake, washed down with the cool spring water just 

 flavoured with the Lovat blend. A salmon from 

 time to time splashes in the pool below, and 

 we can see the light form of a fallow deer feed- 

 ing on the rocky clearing in Ballimore wood 

 opposite to us, and a pair of buzzards wheel- 

 ing in broad circles round - the summit of Suc- 

 coth. But we must be stirring soon if we are 

 to be at Achnashellach in time for the black- 

 cock, and somewhat reluctantly we rise from our 



