To Mountain Tarn 



form, the witchery appeared as the witch of the 

 tarn. 



The fishing is from the shore. There is no 

 boat no boat, man has made. Another kind of 

 boat, we shall meet elsewhere. He who would 

 cast far and sure must humour the mountain wind. 

 These winds are fickle, yet, they are the fisher's 

 ally. The still, hot days are impossible. A moving 

 on the waters is indispensable. I have fished 

 where the ripple ran away from the shore, and 

 followed as the chasing breath changed to another 

 angle. Unlike some tarns, one may walk round 

 with a veering wind, without let or hindrance. 

 Last time I undid my cast and took down my rod, 

 the enthusiast was still fishing. As I crossed the 

 peat hags I looked back to wave him good-bye. 

 I have not seen him since, and will always think 

 of him as on the shores of Loch Skene. 



Primeval must the trout be that are there. I 

 cannot recall any waterway joining it to sources 

 of fish life below ; there may have been when the 

 level was higher, but they are long dry save one. 

 There all ingress is barred. Trout can tumble 

 down if they will, but may not get up. This is 

 the natural outlet known as the tail stream. It 

 has a history past and prospective. Part of the 

 story is already told, and the part which remains 

 may be told with equal certainty. 



In these southern uplands are dead tarns dead 

 as the moon. One such is not far from Loch 



2 59 



