64 THE WATERSIDE FOR ME ! 



Clifford up this valley with 1500 cavalry to hunt 

 Robert the Bruce out of the fastnesses of Glen Trool, 

 the frogs were croaking in this pretty lagoon exactly 

 as they are at this day; but angling was ear-marked 

 long ago as the contemplative man's recreation, and 

 trifling marginalia, such as this, contribute not a little 

 to his simple enjoyment. 



Especially when he catches no fish, as was my lot 

 on this occasion ; though I must confess to having met 

 a good one. Anglers are accused of the sun-dial's 

 propensity to chronicle none but the shining hours ; 

 let me vindicate the candour of the craft by spinning 

 a yarn of ill-success nay, of disaster. Linloskin was 

 all too big, and so was the lower river generally ; where- 

 fore it was resolved to adjourn to a beat six or seven 

 miles further up, above the junction of an important 

 tributary. To salmon, as to all other objects of venatic 

 pursuit, the motor movement has proved a distinct 

 detriment ; enabling the sportsman to transfer himself 

 from place to place with a sudden velocity undreamt of 

 in an older time. So having failed in the main river, 

 we buzzed away to the head-waters, which we found 

 in perfect trim. Exchanging the heavy rod for a 

 handy fifteen-footer, I drew a couple of pools blank 

 from the right bank. The third pool should be fished 

 from a shingle beach on the left bank; but having 

 discarded waders, to reach it involved walking half a 

 mile round by a bridge. Laziness and impatience 

 combined to prompt a trial from the right bank, 

 precipitous and thickly covered with hazel and rowan. 

 A point of rock offered foothold, and the whisper of 



