THE HILL POACHER. 351 



He at once put me out of doubt by remarking upon a few 

 flies round my hat, that they were too light for " oor 

 water," but one or two might do. I looked at him with 

 some curiosity : a nobler specimen of manhood I had never 

 beheld. Upwards of six feet high, of the finest herculean 

 proportions, and straight as an arrow, he seemed equally 

 formed for activity and strength. There was nothing 

 mean or sneaking about his manner. His face was open 

 and manly ; and, despite the sad discipline to which he 

 had exposed both mind and body, he had not effaced the 

 natural and sure marks of force and truth from his coun- 

 tenance. Although wan and emaciated, there was a cool- 

 ness, a will to dare, in his eye, backed by his tremendous 

 shoulders and still powerful frame, that I could not look at 

 him without thinking on the words, " majestic though 

 in ruins." 



I had now no more qualms about Gregorys sincerity 

 and well and faithfully did he repay my confidence so 

 well, that he gained the ill-will of many of the Callander 

 fishers. One ungainly little bullet of a fellow especially, 

 who gloried in a pair of fat stumps which he called " tight 

 legs," and the bust of a man double his length, was parti- 

 cularly indignant that Gregor should have shown all the 

 good casts, " which a man micht hae ta'en lang eneuch to 

 fin' oot for himsel'." Gregor told him at once that he 

 would also guide me along the opposite side, whenever it 

 was my " pleeshur to go." 



But Gregor was equally knowing in the passes of the 

 red deer as the haunts of the salmon. It was alleged 



