52 TJie Cotirse, the Camp, the Chase 



miss a day now." That was twelve years ago, and the 

 fly-rod, alas, has had to be relinquished, but my old 

 friend is still in possession of excellent health, thanks, 

 no doubt, to the outdoor pursuits that he always vigor- 

 ously followed. 



It is a popular idea that no one ever forgets the 

 catching of their first salmon. I only know that mine 

 did not give me half the pleasurable excitement that 

 the capture of the first little burn troutie did. In 1858 

 my father had a charming moor in Durham lent to him, 

 and great were the preparations made by the younger 

 members of the family for their first campaign against 

 the trout. 



We had none of us ever seen a trout alive, and were 

 perfectly ignorant of how to set about catching them, 

 though we had caught coarse fish all our short lives. 

 The head-keeper, however, was an " artist " in fishing, 

 and soon overhauled our tackle on the evening we 

 arrived. We went to bed almost too excited to sleep, 

 and with much jealousy as to who would be lucky 

 enough to catch the first fish. The next morning was 

 sunny and hot, and not at all an ideal day for fishing, 

 bvit our little burn meandered through a very wooded 

 valley, where there was plenty of shade, so the rays of 

 the sun were not so harmful as they would have been, 

 if there had been no covert. At all times, too, those 

 trout are the keenest to take that I have ever met, and 

 no matter what the weather is, no angler ever returns 

 home from the burn without having been rewarded, if 

 he is at all skilful. 



On this occasion Webster, the keeper, took a party 

 of eager children to the stream, halting us about 20 yards 



