144 A SCOTTISH FLY-FISHER 



" O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; 

 A sense of mystery the spirit daunted 

 And said, as plain as whisper in the ear. 

 The place is haunted." 



I was unpleasantly conscious of the close presence of 

 something weird and uncanny, and moved furtively 

 about, a prey to vague, unapprehended fears. I was 

 an intruder on ground not meant for human foot. 



It was but a little piece of water, and it promised 

 me no sport. All I could reasonably hope to get from 

 it was a few small trout, black as the bottom of peat on 

 which it rested. Exhausted by the long ascent, I threw 

 myself upon the heather above the margin of the loch 

 and dropped a languid fly into the water below. The 

 outlook was discouraging, and, lying still, I cast idly and 

 without interest in front of me. I was thinking of any- 

 thing except the occupation in which I was perfunctorily 

 engaged, when my wandering thoughts were hurriedly 

 recalled by a great upheaval of the water in the vicinity 

 of my tail fly. The fish did not reveal himself, nor did 

 he touch the lure, but from the commotion he produced 

 he was obviously no puny trout. My listlessness for- 

 sook me in a flash, and I became at once as keen and 

 eager as I had been indifferent before. Springing to 

 my feet, I cast over him again, prepared to strike at 



