A MARCH SALMON 47 



the Shetland Islands. A friend of mine, without 



my knowledge, had written to his brother, 



who had a rod on a bit of the Dee, to suggest 



his putting me up on my way through and 



giving me a chance of fulfilling a salmon-fishing 



ambition cherished for about thirty years, 



apparently never likely to be fulfilled. It was 



a fine experience, and impressed me with its 



big scale after my trout-fishing experiences. 



There was no wind, and plenty of stream to 



pull the line and to fish the fly, so conditions 



were favourable for my first experience with 



a big rod. My friend left me alone for an 



hour, after telling me the best casts. During 



that time nothing took my fly, but I had the 



thrilling experience of seeing what seemed to 



me like a porpoise roll over my line once, just 



as I recovered it. Maybe the salmon intended 



to take, and maybe he failed to do so because 



I did not let him have a chance. Then we 



went in a boat for a short distance, having a 



few casts by the way, and I was sitting down 



in the stern, reeling in my line, when, suddenly, 



there was an unexpected tug. It did not 



seem to me to be a very heavy one, and I did 



not realize what had happened until I reeled 



in more line and found that the fly had gone, 



the cast broken just above it. I asked whether 



