238 WHAT I HAVE SEEN WHILE FISHING 



time. The fish took, and we killed. I say " we," 

 but the village would always guess that Mac was 

 at the bottom of my luck, and that without him I 

 should be "a wee nobody at the fushing." 



You will regret, as hundreds have done, thai- 

 there is no passage from this to the next pool, 

 except for Hugh MacLennan, who loves to leap and 

 scramble where others dare not. He pays for his 

 daring now and again, and has to confess that the 

 leap to his favourite stone from which he likes to 

 fish the falls has caused him a ducking more than 

 once. I don't like that leap, and I liked it less on 

 the day that I was induced to make it with the aid 

 of a pole. I shall not dwell on what happened, but 

 I may say that the pole has been discarded, and 

 that a short plank now comes from its hiding-place 

 to help me. 



We must to the road, via the ladder, walk some 

 three score yards, go over the wall and descend 

 again to the river. 



THE FALLS 



must be fished, as there you are again sure of either 

 a fish or numerous refusals. I have often felt 

 while here how greatly the pleasure of angling is 

 enhanced by the sure knowledge that one's bait 

 will be seen by numbers of grand fish. 



Under such circumstances how carefully we scan 

 and test our tackle, select our bait, and then, with 



