CttAp. vt NETTING SALMON 63 



come to his death in this way. The fishermen (when the river 

 is low) save a great deal of useless fatigue, and of injury to 

 their nets, by working in some pool immediately above a 

 shallow place, where they station one of their number, who 

 watches for the fish ascending, giving a signal to his companions 

 whenever he sees one. They then immediately put out their 

 nets, and are nearly sure to catch the salmon. In this way 

 very few of the fish can escape as long as the water is low, but 

 when a slight flood comes they can get up unperceived. It is 

 as easy to see them in the night-time as in the day, the water 

 glancing and shining as they struggle up. Indeed on the 

 darkest night the noise they make is easily heard, and dis- 

 tinguished by the accustomed ear of the fishermen. 



There is something wild and interesting in listening during 

 the night to the shout of the man stationed to watch, when he 

 sees fish, and the sound of the oars and boat immediately after- 

 wards, though the object of pursuit is but a fish after all. 

 Sometimes a silent otter suddenly shows himself on the ford, 

 having slipped quietly and unobserved through the deeper parts 

 of the stream till he is obliged to wade, not having water 

 enough to cover him. His appearance is the signal of a 

 general outcry, and if he returns to the deep water where the 

 net is, the fishermen occasionally manage to entangle him, and 

 dragging him to shore, soon despatch him. He is one of their 

 worst enemies. More often, however, he slips noiselessly to the 

 side of the river, and half ensconced behind some broken bank, 

 remains quiet and concealed till the danger is past, and then 

 glides away unperceived. There is no animal more difficult to 

 get the advantage of than the otter, as long as he is on ground 

 that he knows. The fish which escape the nets, and those 

 which go up during floods and on Sundays, on which day they 

 are allowed to have a free passage, seldom stop until they get 

 to the deep quiet pools amongst the rocks some four or five 

 miles up the water, where they rest till fresh water and oppor- 

 tunity enable them to continue their upward progress. Neither 

 sea-trout nor salmon ever seem happy excepting when making 

 their way up a stream. It is wonderful, too, against what 

 difficulties, in the shape of falls and rapids, they will ascend a 

 river. In the Findhorn, owing to the impetuosity of the stream, 

 the frequent and sudden floods it is subject to, and the immense 



