SOME BRITISH FRESH-WATER FISHES 219 



rain for weeks, and much water had run off from 

 the almost unreplenished Tees, though there was 

 still a respectable current. Even the High Force, 

 a noted neighbouring waterfall, had dwindled to a 

 thread, and save for a chain of pools, the stream 

 was fordable everywhere. 



The tree-covered banks were so high above the 

 low water that it was easy to walk along the 

 margin and cast a fly without danger of being 

 " hung up." Deep down in the seclusion of the 

 rocky cleft, the stillness only broken by the 

 delightful sound of tumbling water as it swirled 

 against the stones breaking into a myriad diamond 

 drops, now gliding smoothly over the white rocks, 

 and, here and there, reminding one of the rapids of 

 Niagara in miniature. No sound of life, save the 

 distant splash of leaping salmon or trout, the plain- 

 tive song of a robin, or the complacent twitter of 

 a dipper, as emerging from his " scuttle " ^ under 

 water, he shook the drops from his compact black 

 back, flicked his short tail up and down, and 

 perched upon a dry rock in mid-stream. Then 

 I understood how accurately Sir Walter Scott, 

 who had stayed for some time at Rokeby Hall, 

 had described the surroundings. He says : — 



' The dipper does not walk, but scrambles under water. 



