196 THE FINDHORN AND THE NAIEN 



be sore before night. Still that sickly air of incredulity 

 I could have shaken the fellow ! 



I was to learn the meaning of it. Hour after hour I 

 thrashed a series of the most enchanting pools and 

 streams that fond fisher could imagine; darkness 

 overtook us before we were half-way down to our limit, 

 and one uncertain touch in the rapid run at Cuilachan 

 was the only sign of a fish that was vouchsafed to me. 

 Next day matters were worse. The river was in better 

 order, but in the course of eight hours' steady fishing I 

 did not get a single rise. 



That cured me of all hankering after the Findhorn. 

 On the third morning early, I started across the hills 

 for the Nairn, an insignificant stream compared to the 

 other great river, but of much higher merit, as it was 

 my fortune to prove. Substituting a fifteen-foot grilse 

 rod for the larger one I had been using, I mounted a 

 small Dandy, and began where a swift clear stream 

 ran swiftly between steep banks protected by a chevaux- 

 de-frise of cut brushwood and tree-stems. Ah ! that 

 fatal brushwood : a bright little fish about eight pounds 

 weight dashed at the Dandy in mid-stream, and was 

 fast. My gillie still the same Lacon gave no 

 warning ; I ought to have seen the danger, and run 

 the salmon down to where the stream broadened out 

 between shingle banks. But instead of that, I held on 

 to him, being unwilling to let him down to disturb 

 fresh water. Many a good fish has owed his liberty to 

 this mistaken caution. There was, indeed, some excuse 

 for it in this case, because, owing to the diminutive 



