164 MARVELS OF FISH LIFE 
work in the back yard. At first I was considered a 
lunatic, but when they found that I enjoyed life the 
same as they did, and that I knew almost as much 
about fish as any of them, we became the best of friends, 
and they all worked hard to catch specimen fish, with 
varying success. One of them, however, did catch a 
perch which was estimated to weigh at least two 
pounds. Putting the fish into one of my cans, he at 
once started to walk to the hotel. On his way, how- 
ever, he passed two of his friends fishing from a boat, 
and, proud of his catch, he came to the river-bank 
and lifted the perch out of the can. Immediately 
the fish erected his first dorsal fin, and the sharp spines 
ran into the fisherman’s hand. Uttering an expression 
suitable to the occasion, he dropped the fish, and the 
perch, after two or three flops on the land, escaped into 
the water. It is quite probable that my friend really 
did catch a perch, for his hand was considerably torn, 
and I do not think he knew enough about fish to tell 
me that a wound of that sort had been given him by 
a perch if such had not been the case. 
Fish photographic excursions, like all others, some- 
times go wrong. It is now two or three years ago 
that I went to the Hebrides to combine sea-trout fish- 
ing and photography. When I arrived at Tarbert I 
found that the whole of my kit had gone on to Storno- 
way. Excitable Southerner as I am, I was telling the 
boat officials what I thought of their carelessness, when 
a bystander remarked to me: ‘Och aye, it’s aften 
