ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 18? 



other of this rude shepherd's cairn or of that hea- 

 thery ridge yet, no sooner recognisant of where we 

 were, than again plunged into the circle of absolute 

 ignorance. 



Lost in a mist! it was a pretty piece of knight- 

 errantry! Through what a battalion of shadows 

 had we to tilt our way! The wind blew in more 

 directions than one, and even the mossy rills seemed 

 to veer about and retrace their courses at our pur- 

 suit. Some of them became dead and stagnant, 

 others escaped from our presence, we knew not 

 where. Our converse was now monosyllabic and 

 ejaculatory, but there was still a lightness at our 

 hearts and in our step; we were amused rather 

 than distressed, for assured felt we, that human ha- 

 bitations were not out of reach, and that it was nei- 

 ther a Siberian desert nor Indian prairie within 

 which we wandered. 



The rain became at length more violent than ever, 

 mingled with hail pellets, large and piercing. 

 What of that? a soaking was nothing extraordinary 

 for anglers to encounter! We esteemed it no resig- 

 nation to endure so petty an evil, and courted ra- 

 ther than shunned the boisterous elements. But 

 lo! we were close by the margin of a sheet of water, 

 and a hurra burst from both our lips, for well knew 

 we Loch Skene the dark, heath-fringed tarn. 



