264 MY SPORTING HOLIDAYS 



c Come down here, Davy, 5 said Cousin Henry, ' and 

 help me to rig up a fresh tackle.' 



All ordinary inducements having failed, persuasion 

 of a sterner kind was now to be applied to the sulky 

 fish. A large -sized triangle was deftly manufactured 

 from three old salmon-flies and duly weighted. Davy 

 returned to the conning-tower, and the following con- 

 versation took place : 



' Can you see him still, Davy ?' 



' Aa can, sir.' 



' How far above him am I standing now ?' 



' Aboot ten feet, sir.' 



Eighteen feet of hickory and lancewood were 

 stretched across the stream. The weighted triangle 

 dangling at the end of the running-line, and orna- 

 mented with a piece of white paper so as to be visible 

 in the water, was cautiously lowered into the stream. 

 Slowly it was dropped down just clear of the bottom, 

 and invisible to the angler, but clearly apparent to 

 Davy on the bridge, towards the ' muckle stane.' 



4 Lower yet, sir. Noo oot f ra ye ; noo bock a wee 

 bittie. Canny, sir, canny ; there's twa fush together, 

 ye ken. Noo [crescendo] strike !' 



The rod was rapidly swung low and to the left. 

 The line tightened and the rod bent. Whirr went 

 the reel as a good fish rushed up the pool. 



Suddenly the line hitched and snapped. The rod 

 straightened, and off went the salmon with the triangle 

 and some yards of running-line. Some slack line 

 had been drawn through the rings, and, hanging loose, 

 had caught round the handle of the reel and broken 

 at the first rush of the heavy fish. Salmon No. 1 

 was hopelessly lost. 



Here was a sad disaster. Cousin Henry could find 



