22 MEMOIR. 



lost. I do not think lie really intended going over ; for when he felt him- 

 self within the influence of the strong smooth water, he tried his best to 

 return, but in vain. Over he went like a shot, and long ere I could get 

 round some high rocks and down to the lower part of the fall, I had 80 

 or 90 yards of line out, and to follow him farther on this side of the 

 water was not possible, owing to the steep rock rising beside the stream. 

 To add to the embarrassment of my position, I found, on raising the point 

 of my rod, that in going over the fall the fish had passed beneath some 

 arch deep under water, thus making my case appear very hopeless. But, 

 determined not to give it up yet, I sent my man up to the house of 

 Relugas, where he found an old three-pronged dung fork and a garden 

 line, with which we managed to construct a grapnel ; and at the second 

 throw in, I got hold of the line below the sunken arch ; then fastening 

 it to my right hand, I made my man throw the whole line off the reel 

 and through the rings, and having drawn the remainder of the line 

 through the sunken arch, and clear of the impediment, I formed a coil, 

 and with my left hand pitched the end of it up to him, when he passed 

 it through the rings again from the top of the rod, tixed it to the axle 

 of the reel, and handed me down the rod to where I stood. From the 

 long line out and the heavy water, I could not tell whether the fish was 

 on or not, but the line looked greatly chafed all along. 



I now tried the only plan to end the business. Leaving my man 

 holding the rod, I went to a bridge some distance up the river, and 

 having crossed to the other side and come down opposite him, he pitched 

 the rod over to me. I felt that, if he was still on, I was sure of him, and 

 reeling steadily up the 80 yards which were out, I followed down to the 

 big round pool below, where, to my surprise, I became aware that he 

 was still on. He made but a feeble resistance, and after a tight of two 

 hours and forty minutes, we got the clip into as gallant a fish as ever 

 left the sea weight, 19 J Ibs., and new run. The last hour and a half 

 was in a roaring white flood. The fly was, as you may imagine, well 

 " chawed up." 



The neighbourhood of Invererne to the basin of the Findhorn 

 the resort of innumerable wildfowl; the sandhills of Culbin 

 so curious, almost so marvellous ; the " Black Forest," stretching 

 away behind Brodie and Dalvey ; the " Old Bar," where the seals 

 love to sun themselves on the sand ; the mouth of the Muckle- 

 burn, the favourite haunt of the otter made it a most desirable 



