226 TROUT FISHING 



covey, poised about a foot under the 

 surface, watching the insects, and rising 

 at them now and then. I should see 

 uncountable thousands of the fish ; and 

 there would be other thousands far below, 

 large ones that rarely took a fly but were 

 always ready for a minnow. 



Up the hUl I went about four hundred 

 feet, and, preparing for the survey, seated 

 myself on a boulder. 



It was a fine morning. In the motion- 

 less air, the valley was flooded with soft 

 spring sunshine, dead - still upon the 

 heather, which bore the russet hue of 

 winter, and slightly shimmering on the 

 tender green of early -budding trees ; and 

 the narrow loch, dark -blue, was like a 

 mirror. It was almost difficult, as one 

 gazed, to be sure where the land merged 

 into the water. After a few moments' 

 looking at it, the long sheet, being quite 

 still, lost the aspect of water : it seemed 

 to have vanished, and the space which it 

 had occupied to be flanked by mountains 

 of giant stateliness and repose : only 



