FAILURES AND SUCCESSES 



as he flings his silvery body, or even, if better may not be, his 

 red but heavy carcase, out of the water.. Would that my 

 fish might weigh 60 lb., but, since I may not ask impos- 

 sibilities, fifty, forty, nay, even thirty would be better than my 

 best. 



How often have I been near the realisation of my dream ! 

 That is the worst of it. I remember a day in the early seventies 

 when I was a happy guest at Murthly with Fred Milner, still 

 famous among sportsmen and politicians. The Tay was in 

 order, and we sat facing the stern, harling with three rods, 

 a fly on each of the outer rods and a minnow on the middle 

 one. The skilful boatmen left not a yard of the water un- 

 searched as their strong arms turned the boat back and across 

 the big pool opposite Stenton, where, every now and again, 

 an encouraging splash betrayed the presence of abundance 

 of active and heavy fish. The chances on that occasion were 

 all in my favour, for the spin of a coin had assigned to me the 

 first run at the middle rod. As has been said, we were harling, 

 a sport for which I have since learnt a measure of contempt, 

 though always effective and at times, particularly in very big, 

 broad rivers, the only way. At any rate, it was the only way 

 in which|to provide sport for all the guests who found hospi- 

 tality^in that delightful spot, where moor, moss, stubble and 

 stream gave to each of their best. About half an hour had 

 gone when suddenly the stone flew off my line, and the stiff 

 rod bent as I hastened to pick it up, while my less fortunate 

 companion began to reel in the other two lines so as to get them 

 out of the^way. Before, however, he had given more than a 



75 



