TROLLING FOE THE SALMO-FEROX. 391 



there, and must of course see the fly, it was their fault, and not 

 his, if they refused it. A " wit " residing on Loch Lomond, 

 unlike these devotees (whose pardon I beg if implying they 

 were no wits), at once detected his lack of gift for the rod, and 

 was candid enough to give me solid reasons why his first day's 

 fishing was also his last. " In those days white trout were 

 very plentiful in the loch, and by mere chance, the first day I 

 ever tried, I had the misfortune to hook a large one. Having 

 no boatman, I pulled after it right across to the opposite shore. 

 Upon taking up my rod when the fish seemed quieter, it gave 

 a tug and broke my line. I then took out my watch to see 

 how long this fool's chase had lasted, when the coble gave a 

 lurch, and my valuable gold watch and bunch of seals toppled 

 over the side, and most likely found a fob in the soft mud at 

 the bottom of the water. Can you wonder, then, that I shirk 

 a rod as if it were a serpent, or that I decline another intro- 

 duction to a sea-trout until all the spirit has been boiled out 

 of him?" 



Sometimes, spite of all odds, the bungler gains the day. 

 One of the most accomplished fishers I ever knew moved a 

 salmon three times in the first pool he tried. As it showed 

 signs of laziness, instead of " waiting on," he judged it best to 

 give an hour's " law." Looking over his shoulder when pre- 

 paring for the next pool, he saw the village tailor, who had 

 scarcely ever thrown a line in his life, with his fish firm and 

 fast, having fixed it at the first rise. He was standing aghast 

 and helpless before the mighty spirit he had raised, and had 

 no power to control. My friend had the good-nature to run 

 back and save the fish, but he always described the contest 

 between Snip and the salmon as the most aggravating sight 

 that had ever stirred his spleen. In the summer of 1855, a 

 tempting trout haunted a weir upon the river Kennet, in 

 Berkshire. It set at nought all the best anglers of the dis- 

 trict, until the miller, seeing it gulp down a piece of potato, 

 took the hint, and immediately hooked it. This fish weighed 



