AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 247 



It may happen to you, as it has to me, that all 

 your efforts to keep the fish in the pool will prove 

 unavailing, and that he will go with a rush, mindful 

 of old haunts, down stream. Should this be the 

 case, follow until you stand on the last and highest 

 rock at the tail, where you will have good footing 

 in a position to keep your line clear of that high 

 boulder which you see in mid-stream. When you 

 are quite clear of this, slide down the rock, rod 

 in right hand, leaving your left free to aid you in 

 your difficult passage between, and sometimes over, 

 the innumerable crags and stones that beset your 

 journeying. Watch your footsteps, and go as 

 slowly as your diminishing line permits, unless 

 it be that you are less mindful of a fall than 

 anxious for success in the struggle which you have 

 in hand. 



It will be a joyful and welcome moment if you 

 should arrive without a severe bruise opposite the 

 pool above the falls with tight line pointing towards 

 the deep eddy, as it is there that the fish would 

 make for, and with little added labour he should 

 be yours. The taking of this fish you will always 

 remember, and sometimes you may think it worth 

 talking about. 



Now I desire to introduce you to the photo of 

 MacLeish, shoemaker to the village of Fortingall. 

 It was a gladdening sight to see his smiling eyes 

 and jolly, well-kept person. No one would have 

 guessed his trade. A keener sportsman, a more 



