18 AUTUMNS ON THE SPEY. 



ing, about a hundred yards lower down, I com- 

 menced operations there at once in a narrow 

 but deep and turbulent pool, at the lower end of 

 which I could just see the upper portion of a 

 rapid, where the stream became wider and 

 shallower, as it suddenly turned to the left and 

 was then lost to view. 



My first two throws were just above the boiling 

 water through which the fly a small black king 

 was whirled about in all directions. At the 

 third, with a longer line, it dropped almost at 

 the margin of the opposite bank, passed quickly 

 through the whirlpool, and swam steadily through 

 the strong current a few yards lower down. 

 While my eye was fixed upon its movements, a 

 sudden splash, close to the spot, gave the first 

 promise of sport that had greeted me for many 

 days. Only a rise it is true, but a real one. 

 Half a dozen steps backwards, a few throws 

 higher up, and the fly was over him. An- 

 other splash, but no hold of him yet. Once 

 more I retired six paces, and now with increased 

 excitement repeated the same process. A sudden 

 plunge and a chuck told that I had got him this 

 time.* First, he rushed up the stream, the line 



* Notwithstanding the thrill of delight that electrifies every 

 fisherman at the moment when he hooks a Lig salmon especially 



