58 FORAYS AMONG SALMON AND DEER. 



The third morning being tolerably fine, though 

 varied by an occasional shower, we drove to a river 

 called the Frothay, to fish for salmon. This river is 

 only about a mile in length, running from a fresh-water 

 loch down into the sea. It would be a most excellent 

 salmon river, were it not for the fishermen at the 

 mouth, who net it so indefatigably that scarcely a fish 

 can ascend the stream except during a flood. At such 

 times, if there be a great body of water, they come up 

 in great numbers, and the very best sport may be had. 

 Throughout its whole extent it is one continued 

 succession of rapids and falls; the stream bowling its 

 way along a rocky bed, huge boulders constantly 

 impeding its course, and high cliffs rising abruptly on 

 either side ; so abruptly indeed, and so close to the 

 water's edge, that the angler can in some places only 

 make his way very cautiously by steps cut in the rock. 

 Altogether, from the bold character of the scenery, as 

 well as from the rapidity and turbulence of its waters, 

 the Frothay forms the beau iddal of a Highland stream, 

 and I am acquainted with no river along whose course 

 I could ramble with greater enjoyment. 



After putting up our cattle, a pair of Highland 

 ponies, with the dogcart, at a shepherd's shieling hard 

 by, we put our tackle together, and hastened at once 

 to try our fortune. We found the stream swollen, and 

 were quickly assured of its containing fish, for we saw 

 the fresh-run salmon leaping in every direction. This, 

 however, was no agreeable sight, for when salmon are 

 in the leaping mood they are seldom disposed to take 

 the fly. The water was also rather too much dis- 

 coloured, but this we remedied in some degree by 

 putting on a brighter fly. Donald selected for me 

 one out of a number which he carried hooked into his 

 bonnet ; it was rather large in size, with a yellow 



