A HIGHLAND SALMON RIVER. 107 



On the way up an otter was seen in the shallows, 

 where it might have easily been shot ; and we came 

 on a colony of teal at a reedy swamp by the banks. 



All the next pools were taken in succession by 

 Ward and myself, and we had good sport. Ward 

 killed a grilse and some trout, and I got a grilse and 

 bungled and lost a salmon in a very stupid way. 

 The fish took my fly just over a rapid, and rushed at 

 once to tie strong deeps at the farther side. On 

 wading the shallow part to get better scope at him, I 

 had my line grasped close to the rod, when he made 

 another bolt, and, of course, snapped the strong line 

 like a thread. 



On coming now to the black pool of leviathan 

 fame, I resolved to try fairly for the big one ; so I 

 waded in at the very top and fished it, inch by inch, 

 to the bottom, yet without a rise. The boy said it 

 was strange ; and as it was nearly the best pool in 

 the river, he thought the otter had lately been 

 through it. 



Otter or not, I determined on another trial with a 

 fresh fly. So I put on a large rough hook, with 

 turkey wing and grey body, banded with silver, and 

 again went over the pool, casting as far across as I 

 could manage. On and on, yet not a move, till just 



