128 risn AND FISHING is SCOTLAND. 



On this occasion we travelled from Annandale, ascending the 

 stream which Loch Skene pours into the Annan. It meanders 

 for many miles through a very beautiful but narrow valley, en- 

 closed by lofty mountains. You reach at last a small inn, a kind 

 of auberge, on the highest point of the neck of land, forming the 

 water-shed between the sources of the Annan and that of Yarrow. 

 Hesting here, we proceeded late in the afternoon of a gloomy day 

 to visit Loch Skene, at the distance of about three miles from the 

 tiny inn. The day became more and more obscured. After 

 fishing the lake, we were foolish enough to propose descending 

 in the course of the stream, which, after a short course, dashes 

 over a perpendicular and terrible precipice, forming the Grey 

 Mare's Tail a fall of water of great height. To the brink 

 of this fearful bank we approached, on the left side of the stream, 

 descending until the roar of waters, as they boiled in the fearful 

 cauldron below, was but too audible. 



To reascend was the difficulty, and even when surmounted, how 

 were we to proceed ? It was all but dark. Fortunately, whilst 

 travelling up the valley in the morning by the great road, I re- 

 marked that the slope next the gorge by which the stream escaped, 

 though very steep, was a continuous grassy slope, uninterrupted 

 by precipices, as all the others were. By this slope I determined 

 to descend. We escaped with life. Travellers and wanderers 

 have perished at this very spot, by falling into the dreadful 

 cauldron, from which it has been difficult to remove their help- 

 less remains. One such was swept around the cauldron for many 

 days. 



Let the angler be cautious how he attempts descending the 

 slopes of these mountains. They are grassy for some hundred 

 feet, when suddenly a precipitous wall of basaltic rock appears, 

 to descend which is impossible. Viewed from a distance, these 

 precipices seem trifling as to elevation or depth, but woe to the 

 traveller who should attempt descending them, or even approach 

 the brink. 



We left the Birchin Knoll next morning, musing on the escape 

 of the previous day. Travelling onwards by an easy descent 

 towards the east, the source of the Yarrow accompanying us 

 along the wayside, in a few hours we were fishing the Yarrow 

 at the Gordon Arms. 



