50 TISH AND PISHING IN SCOTLAND. 



preaching the country of the Gael nay, we are in it. Coilin- 

 togle ford is in sight on the left : so is Loch Venachar. The 

 morning is beautiful. Bounding the mountains on the right, 

 the bridge of Turk comes into view, beyond which followed 



"The copsewood grey, 

 That wooed and wept on Loch Achray." 



The angler will find a lodging at the bridge of Turk, and 

 another at the entrance of Glenfmlas. We preferred the latter. 

 The Macgregors are not far off, the descendants of Rob Roy. 

 They are fine-looking men, but have blue eyes. 



Our next care was to look out for angling-ground. Before us 

 lay the small stream running from Loch Achray to Venachar. 

 I fished it with the utmost care, but unsuccessfully. The waters, 

 it is true, were low, the sun bright, and the pools unruffled. I 

 could not learn that the fishing was ever successful in this con- 

 necting stream, or that any of the brown trout ascended it from 

 Venachar, or descended it from Loch Achray, and yet at times 

 this must be the case, as in floods ; for trout run madly up a 

 flooded stream, and may then 'be taken in dozens by the veriest 

 bungler ; no skill is required then. 



Unsuccessful in the stream, I now fished the river, which, to 

 the south of the Trosachs, connects Loch Katrine with Loch 

 Achray. To reach this stream, you walk from the Bridge of 

 Turk, then along the beautiful banks of Loch Achray, and, 

 passing the inn built in the gorge of the Trosachs, turn to the 

 left, cross the river "that joins Loch Katrine to Loch Achray," 

 close to the mill, and proceed upwards until reaching the smooth 

 gravelly shore of the lake, Benvenue stands full before you ; pre- 

 cipitous and wild, stopping all progress on that side the lake. 

 Now look to the north and east, the Trosachs are spread out 

 before you, a wild, rocky, and tangled scene, well suited for an 

 ambuscade, even now. You must not feel displeased that the 

 scenery falls far short of the jingling description of poor Sir 

 Walter. The bold cliffs of Benvenue, this lone lake's western 

 boundary, cannot be injured by description.* 



* Hopes are still entertained, that Mont Blanc itself may survive the 

 "daily ascent." 



