CH. VI. LOSS OF FISHING-LINE. 95 



some difficulty scrambled down the rocks and got 

 aboard. In the boat was what is here called a 

 messenger-at-arms, which, I fancy, answers some- 

 what to a superior kind of constable. He had been 

 on a strange and fruitless errand to arrest a girl of 

 fourteen or fifteen, who had for some time been 

 in the habit of driving the sheep in the neighbour- 

 hood on to a narrow point of land that reached into 

 the sea, and having caught them one by one, she 

 robbed them of as much wool as she could manage 

 to strip off. Having carried on this system for 

 some time, she at last became a perfect bugbear 

 to the farmers, and here, luckily for us, was a 

 well-dressed, rather dandy messenger-at-arms re- 

 turning from his chase, and going straight to 

 PJiiconnich, to which place he kindly gave us 

 a lift, for whicli we were very grateful to him. 



We had a beautiful row up the loch ; but the 

 cold air, after the great heat of the afternoon while 

 climbing the rocks, joined to sitting for an hour in 

 the boat wet through above my knees, gave me an 

 attack of illness which eventually cut short my 

 rambles in Sutherland. 



Between Ehiconnich and Scowrie I lost my only 

 fishing-line in a ridiculous manner. In the course 

 of our drive we passed over a very good-looking 

 stream, the Laxford. Thinking to catch a couple 



