236 THE MOOR AND THE LOCH. 



rods, bait, provisions, and pea-jacket, were making for Port 

 Sonachan quay, where I had directed them to meet me. The 

 morning was colder, the wind had changed from west to east 

 " a bad airt " for the fish. There were certain appearances 

 also in the sky which foreboded squally weather. The best 

 of the fishing-ground is below Port Sonachan, so I did not 

 wish to waste time, on such an unpropitious day, until we got 

 there. I sauntered dreamily along, admiring the views as 

 they unfolded themselves, and had sat for some time on Port 

 Sonachan shore, listening to a chorus of cuckoos, before the 

 measured stroke of Sandy and Johnny appeared at some dis- 

 tance, slowly propelling their clumsy boat. I question if I 

 gained much time by my manoeuvre, though Sandy appeared 

 quite satisfied with the .rate of their progress. I was soon 

 seated in the stern, with lovely baits towing behind. " No' a 

 rug," as Sandy repeatedly said ; but he endeavoured, poor 

 fellow, to keep up our spirits by telling a tale of every wood, 

 hill, or rock we crept slowly past. " There's the badger's rock, 

 sir ; he has never left it for the last fifty year." The grey 

 hermit of the rock called me back to my boyish days. The 

 " brock-holes " in the oak wood the traps my brothers and I 

 had purloined from the old keeper, who preferred killing 

 vermin by the lazy method of the gun my delight when I 

 detected the first poor captured badger, all rose fresh before 

 me, as in those sunny mornings of life's early spring. My 

 brothers and I had been brought up in the country, and were 

 hunters from our childhood. Our couple of terriers were 

 game as flint, and yet they were never able to draw a badger 

 from his natural fastness. I have heard them hold one to 

 bay for hours, in the inmost recesses of his earth. On one 

 occasion, when a favourite terrier had teased the poor animal 

 for a long time, it slyly followed, and when the dog was 

 within a yard of the hole's entrance, bit his hind leg to the 

 bone. This harassing of the rear of a retreating enemy 

 showed tactics on the part of the old grey friar that we could 



