LOCH-FISHING 141 



terity with which he wields the rod lies the secret of his 

 pleasure. 



The trout in the majority of our Scottish lochs aver- 

 age little more than a quarter of a pound in weight, and 

 they afford no sport save on the most delicate of tackle. 

 Since, however, the angler may find an occasional triton 

 among the minnows, his cast, though fine, must be sound. 

 It must be capable of meeting all contingencies. There 

 is small satisfaction in fishing with a cast so frail that 

 the chances are all in favour of the fish ; that, no matter 

 how deft the angrier, his failure is assured. He will, 

 too, occasionally find large trout in the most improbable 

 of places, and he should be prepared to deal with the 

 situation. Of one such discovery I have curiously 

 conflictin'g recollections. 



It was, however unlike it, a morning in August. 

 During the night a chill, damp mist had crept up from 

 the sea and enveloped the landscape in its clammy folds. 

 Our goal — a profound secret — was a little lochan high 

 on the distant tops, and the way to it was long and 

 weary. When we left the road which winds its sinuous 

 way among the hills, we stepped upon a trackless wild, 

 but to my companion the hillside was familiar as his 

 own kail-yard, and he strode the heather with the con- 

 fidence of perfect knowledge. So dense was the fog 



