AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 261 



two absolutely stupid fellows. The only redeeming 

 feature of the position was the security I felt that 

 there would be no witnesses to my discomfort. 



This thought had scarcely time to ease my 

 worry when, on turning round, I saw that MacColl, 

 the head boatman from Kenmore, with whom I 

 have often fished, and who is a splendid even 

 rower for harling, as it is practised in Loch Tay, 

 was coming along in our track, if such it might be 

 called. I tried my best to get my men to put in a 

 respectable stroke, but the more I talked the more 

 flustered they became and the higher their blades 

 were lifted, to go chop, chop ! splash, splash ! first 

 on one side and then on the other. 



MacColl and Sandy MacLaren were fast over- 

 hauling us, and I could just make out who the 

 gentleman was who was fishing with them. The 

 recognition of the third figure that formed the 

 complement of a talented boat added no little 

 measure to my cup of misery. 



I determined on a wide turn at the point just 

 ahead, where the boats often went about. This 

 would give the boat following an opportunity of 

 passing, without their knowing my motives for 

 wishing to keep such a distance between us. This 

 ruse did not answer, and it was really stupid of me 

 to expect a show like mine to escape notice. My 

 friend, I found, had no fish ; so there, at any rate, 

 I was equal with him. Compliments were paid me 

 on my "unique turn out," of which my boatmen 



