312 TKAVEL, ADVENTUEE, AND SPORT. 



The Achniral arrived in a great hurry, just in time 

 not to see the last of him. 



"How," said G., "can one yack a hook into a 

 brute like that? and what is the good of trying it, 

 when they have mouths made of china or cast steel 1 " 

 It was a disastrous finish to a not altogether unsuc- 

 cessful day. 



The next day G. left Lenggries and went to 

 Munich. There at the exhibition he wandered 

 through acres of pictures, many beautiful, many 

 most miserable, and some ghastly and horrible and 

 hideous to a degree. One small painting he coveted, 

 called " The Poacher's Grave," a man lying on his 

 face in the snow in a chasm between steep rocks 

 from which he had fallen, a wild picture of an 

 open grave in which he might lie for ever and not 

 be seen again by mortal eyes. Then he began the 

 long journey back to Argyleshire. He left the Ad- 

 miral behind ; and that gentleman, after contending 

 with noble obstinacy against heavy spates, which 

 occurred when he was well, and bad colds, which 

 kept him to his room when the river was in order, 

 and moreover, against vicious and wicked liuchen, 

 succeeded in capturing a 1 2-pounder and an 8-pounder, 

 besides smaller fry. These men had to encounter 

 many difficulties. They had to find out where, in 

 many miles of water, the fish lay, and what they 

 would take, and how they would take it ; and they 

 had to teach themselves to use strange tackle. But 



