364 THE MOOR AND THE LOCH. 



fight from a neighbouring knoll. However, he barely got " in 

 at the death," for the fish made one more feeble effort to keep 

 under water, and then floated to the bank, an unresisting 

 mark for Sandy's " clip." His weight was 23 lb., and the time 

 taken from hooking till landing was three-quarters of an hour. 



It was now the 31st of October, the last day of the season, 

 and every angler with either right or leave to fish on any part 

 of the river, was of course at his post. The water was low, 

 but as the ground had been well saturated with the previous 

 rains, there was hope of its keeping in fishing trim till the 

 evening. 



My eldest son had made an effort, by travelling all night, 

 to have one day on the Stinchar ; but by every exertion he 

 only arrived in time for luncheon, his portmanteau and fishing- 

 gear following. He had, however, carried his salmon-rod 

 himself ; so, after choosing one of my large reels, he joined us 

 about two o'clock at the Duckat Wheel, our nearest pool. 

 Dub-a-nee had been unsuccessfully fished after breakfast, so 

 we advised him not to try again till four o'clock, when it 

 would be free from sunshine. 



Early in the day my second son had raised a large fish 

 close under the bridge, and another about the same size 

 moved to my rod in the Scaur. Each of them was tempted 

 by the gled's tail, and both were touched. The Bridge Wheel 

 fisherman had, however, broken his hook by contact with the 

 stones ; so, as the salmon could not have been pricked with 

 the blunted weapon, he was booked for an evening trial. The 

 right of the top part of this wheel leloiv the bridge fell to my 

 share, and the lower half to a neighbouring farmer, but the 

 fish rose exactly on our inarch. On the crest of the bridge 

 were some officious onlookers, who ran at once to apprise the 

 farmer of a feeding fish ; when he hastened down with his 

 rod, hooked, and lost the salmon by too great confidence in 

 double gut and rough usage. So our only hope, faint though 

 it was, rested in Dub-a-nee after sunset. 



