56 WILD SPORTS OF THE HIGHLANDS. [CHAP. vi. 



The right of fishing in many of the Scotch rivers is vested in 

 a very singular manner ; as, for instance, in the Findhorn, where 

 the proprietor of many miles of land along the river banks has no 

 right to throw a line in the water, but is obliged to pay a rent 

 for fishing on his own ground. Indeed, this kind of alienation 

 of the right of fishing from the person who would seem to be the 

 natural proprietor of it is very common. I remember an anec- 

 dote told me by an old Highlander as to the cause of the fishing 

 in a particular river in Sutherland being out of the hands of the 

 proprietor of the land on its banks. The story is as follows : 

 The laird of the property higher up on the water was also the 

 possessor of a small island in the river. He was a deep, long- 

 headed fellow, and grudged his neighbour the profit he made out 

 of the fishing just below him, the water on the upper part not 

 being so good. He therefore commenced building a fort on the 

 island, and falling in with his neighbour, asked him in an off-hand 

 way to give him, merely, he said", for the convenience of his work- 

 men, a right of fishing the whole river until his building was 

 completed, salmon in those days being used as a means of feeding 

 the numerous retainers and servants who lived upon and followed 

 every laird and chieftain. Indeed, but a few years back it was 

 often made a stipulation by servants on being hired by a Highland 

 master that they should not be fed on salmon above a certain 

 number of days in the week. But to continue my story. The 

 permission was granted ; and, to save all dispute about the matter, 

 even a legal written document was given over to the wily laird, 

 granting him exclusive right of fishing and netting the river, 

 " until his house was finished." The building was immediately 

 stopped, and the right of fishing still belongs to the proprietor 

 of the little islet, who will probably never finish his building, as 

 doing so would put an end to his valuable rights on the river. 

 So runs the tale, which does more credit to the acuteness than 

 to the honesty of the inventor of the ruse. The jumping of the 

 salmon up a fall is a curious and beautiful sight, and the height 

 they leap, and the perseverance which they show in returning 

 again and again to the charge, after making vain efforts to sur- 

 mount the fall, are quite wonderful. Often on a summer even- 

 ing, when the river is full of fish, all eager to make their way 

 up, have I watched them for hours together, as they sprang in 



