JULY 189 



the worse, or at all events suffers no more than trifling 

 discomfort. I possess to this day a certain double-hooked 

 fly of which a salmon deprived me many, many years ago 

 in the North Tyne. Two days later, a friend of mine, 

 fishing half a mile higher up the river, proved how little 

 inconvenience I had caused this fish by recovering my fly 

 in the breast of a 17-pounder which he landed on a fly of 

 much the same character. I attached my own fly at once 

 to the line, and caught a couple of salmon with it on the 

 same evening. 



Other field-sports do not always leave the conscience 

 cloudless. ' The place where the old horse died ' is per- 

 haps one of more than merely tender association. Well 

 for you if you have not to reproach yourself with hav- 

 ing exacted too much from your generous comrade and 

 servant, who never measured his effort by his powers. 

 Fine, too, are the trophies of the big-game hunter; but, 

 in winning them, how many noble creatures has he dis- 

 missed to a lingering death in the wilderness. I have 

 never had to lament the death of a horse under me ; but 

 in all rny memories of moor and river, mountain and vale, 

 there is none I care so little to revive as that of a certain 

 afternoon on the steep above Loch Treig. We were stalk- 

 ing, on very difficult ground, a small herd of deer which 

 got our wind and moved off before we were so near as 

 we had wished. Among them were two good stags, one of 

 which fell to my first barrel, apparently stone-dead ; his 

 comrade was heavily struck with the second. I felt some 

 satisfaction with the performance, for they were both long- 

 ish running shots; but just as I was starting in pursuit 

 of the cripple, the first stag rose to his feet and began 

 hobbling away in the opposite direction. Handing my 



