AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 237 



while coming down again, he saw a fish come from 

 the dark water behind a boulder, so he called down 

 to me to make the same cast again, and again he 

 saw the fish come. He said that the reason the 

 fish had not taken my bait was because it could 

 not do so, as it no sooner saw it than it was over 

 the next big stone, and the only plan was to get 

 the minnow to cross the spot slowly. I was then 

 standing as high up stream as I could, with per- 

 pendicular rock at my right shoulder. What could 

 be done ? Mac knew, and said " Stand there," 

 pointing to three feet of icy water. I shook my 

 head, and his reply was " Gie me a hand, sir, and I 

 ken we'll hae the fush yet." We worked until my 

 back ached, and Mac's face was a sight that did 

 him credit. At last the work was completed, with 

 a flat coping, and I had dry stones to stand on. 

 " Now, sir, you'll have urn." I tried my best, and 

 Mac was up the ladder to watch the result, but 

 nothing came of it. Mac scratched his head and 

 suggested lunch, and, while he was eating, he was 

 sorting over my minnows, and selected one with 

 opposite colours to those of the bait already tried. 

 This proved equally useless, as did the next, and 

 the next. " Put you on that, sir, and I hae done 

 wi' it." It was a good bait once, but it had had its 

 day, and so I smiled as I put it on. I always did 

 as Mac told me, sometimes in faith, sometimes in 

 deference to his skill and experience and never- 

 flagging anxiety for my success. He was right this 



