72 TWEED. 



hear a heavy wafting of the air above you, it is 

 the heron away before you to some sequestered 

 cairn. He loves solitude, as a bird of the desert, 

 and all alone, steps into the shallow places after 

 his prey. Look ! he stands to consider a while, 

 but he hears our approach, and, as he cares not 

 for busy men, and would rather not hear their 

 tattle, he mounts again on the wing into mid 

 air, and away to some other lonely dell. He 

 prefers to pursue his way unobserved and un- 

 seen. He seeks his bread in the living waters, 

 which he swallows with gladness. Thus he is to 

 us a pattern of meekness, while he will not let a 

 stranger intermeddle with his joy. But I 

 have now arrived at the bit where a fish, if any 

 should show himself, for well do those who fish 

 often know the lairs. He rose, but not hooked ; 

 we cast again, but no answer. I would re- 

 commend all, if ever in the same predicament, to 

 recede a few yards and wait for seven or eight 

 minutes. I cast again, he shows himself, and 

 immediately feel the weight of 18 Ibs. Dutch at 

 the end of the line. A little excited not to lose 

 this, as two others were lost during the morning, 

 I give him a little at first of his own way, seeing 

 that he keeps the middle of the stream, and seems 



