230 
THE PISHING GAZETTE 
a trout of I'lb.—a rare event with fly on Loch 
Uochart—in all ‘271b. of trout. We had to drive 
to the loch, and walked back, sis miles each way. 
Well, next morning we fount! it was still ^a 
dead calm, with a steady downpour of rain. So 
we set to work, B. to write letters and I to dress 
flies. When after mid-day my companion 
suddenly looked up and said, “ Why don’t you 
go up and see what you could do alone on the 
loch?” “Oh:” I replied, “a pretty time to 
suggest it. I wouldn’t be able to start fishing 
till two o’clock, but get me a snack and order the 
trap, and I will eo.” And 1 w'ent! 
1 fished from 2 to fl or fl 30 with fly, and when 
1 reached the inn I had 241b. nett weight of trout 
all with fly. I always have lamented that I had not 
made an early start, as I firmly believe I should 
have made a record day of it. It was ever thus. 
It rained incessantly, and trout kept rising for 
two hours all round the boat. There was no 
wind, and my notion was (and is) that millions of 
midges were being knocked down by the falling 
rain-drops. Never have I seen such a sight 
before or since on any loch. While the “ rise ” 
was on I simply threw the trout into the boat 
anyhow, economising thus every moment, and 
not minding if I lost a few trout by my haste in 
landing them. 
It is, under such circumstances, wise to make 
one’s hay whilst the sun is shining. A timid 
fisherman, who needs must play every trout as if 
time was of no importance, never will make a 
good basket in a short time. So now and then 
one must depart from fixed rules and collar one’s 
trout with a firm and masterful hand. If he 
goes, let him ; cast again, and you ought to hook 
another. For thus only will big baskets be made 
in a few hours. “ Verhum sat. sapientes.” 
I find, on the 28th, when fishing the lower loch 
(Loch Ure), that my friend hooked a fine male 
salmon in Loch Ure, about Ifllb. or 181b., with a 
trout-fly, which gave him a grand run. Just as it 
was dead-beat, and coming within reach of the 
gaff, it came up vertically, only showing its large 
jaws, which kept opening and shutting, showing 
plainly the upturned jaw of the male. I had the 
gaff, and in another foot or so the boat would 
have been sufficiently near for me to gaff him 
through the gills—the best chance in such 
a case—when, suddenly, the hook tore its 
way out of the soft tissues of the mouth, and 
Salmo salar sank like a log, without giving even 
a boil as he went out of sight. It was a fine Tay 
salmon. Many a dozen has he slain since that 
day, but I cannot help recalling the bitterness of 
the moment as I suddenly saw the rod straighten, 
and knew that he was lost. We got Iflib. of 
trout, however, between us. 
On July 4, fishing the same little loch, my friend 
killed a trout of l:|lb. with fly, and, on examining 
it, we found a gut casting line trailing out about 
a foot or more through the vent, whilst in the 
mouth the same casting line was found still, the 
fish having, perhaps, been hooked by the dropper 
fly, as the gut of this was still within the trout’s 
mouth. As this is a singular coincidence, I 
vouch for the accuracy of it. 
But how did the gut find its way through the 
fish ? I confess this is a puzzle. There it was, 
however, beyond all doubt. 
One or two theories I have advanced in my 
own mind, more or less unsatisfactory to myself, 
to account for this singular circumstance. The 
first being that the fish was hooked, say in the 
tongue, and by the second dropper, and the 
angler, by hard striking, had broken his casting- 
line just above where the dropper was attached. 
Then, perhaps, in dashing at a small trout, the 
gut-line got across the body of the small trout in 
such a way as to be swallowed with the fish. 
Another theory is that a small trout was 
hooked on the end fly, and the angler broke his 
cast at a weak place, in striking. Being in 
distress, the larger fish would perhaps go for and 
swallow him, line and all; and so, in the course of 
time, the gut line would get naturally passed 
through. There was noJly attached to the line; 
this had gone belore we hooked him. 
Next day, July o, we wound up a most pleasant 
and memorable trip by killing 18jib. of trout. 
’I'he trap was to meet us this afternoon, and, as 
the sun came out very hot and fly-fishing was 
useless, I mounted a pike spinning-tackle, tied on 
gimp, a double row of double hooks inserted into 
a small trout, and in a very short time I hooked 
and killed a yellow trout of 3|lb. on my 10ft. fly- 
rod—a good finale to our first Highland fishing 
trip. 
On July 9 I found that I killed a clean-run 
bright grilse of 61b. whilst teaching my friend 
J. how to fish with clear water-worm up-stream 
in the Teviot, just in sight of Mark Ait ken’s 
cottage, and in the stream called “ Miss Elliot.” 
Mark’s wife w'atched me handle the fish, which 
made several summersaults, and Mark afterwards 
told me that she expressed her approval. More¬ 
over, I had very fine tackle, and no gaff or 
landing-net; and what gave greater interest to 
the capture was the fact that it was a compara¬ 
tively rare event to take a clean-run grilse from 
the Teviot at Nisbet. Some favouring circum¬ 
stances had sent a few up, for I find that, with a 
small midge-fly, I killed another grilse, I jlb., on 
the 13th, about a mile lower down. 
My last day with the trout fly on the Teviot was 
a sad one, inasmuch as I was leaving the roof 
that had sheltered me for so long, so I resolved to 
spend it fishing, instead of growling over the 
inevitable. This was on August 20, and I find 
that ‘‘ 1 went out to have a forenoon’s fishing 
prior to leaving Wooden.” The trout were 
rising greedily at a very thin greenish fly, but no 
imitation I had would induce the trout to take. 
I even stripped a wing by half, and then, taking 
a piece of silk, tied it down to the shank of the 
hook to imitate the thin fly in vain. 
“Thoroughly disgusted and humbled, I donned 
a couple of small grilse flies, and in the first pool 
I fished I had a small grilse, l|lb. (in the “ Dub ”), 
and from “ Oxnam Foot Pool” a sea trout, both 
newly run, of 21b., a sort of thing one does not 
always do on that part of the river. 
In September I fished for two days with my 
brother (the writer of “ Tod’s Trout Fishing 
Guide to the Isle of Man ”) in the Ribble. 
near Chatburn, on the borders, I think, of 
Lancashire and Yorkshire, but our record was 
a poor one, owing to water and weather 
being both unfavourable for sport; and I would 
like just to remark, once and for all, that some 
angling writers .seem to have had an average of 
success that has never attended myself, t'mecially 
on the Tweed and its hard fished tributaries. 
Many is the day I have had to record three or 
four trout—on the Tweed, at St. Boswells or 
IMaxton—and I have done “ my level best.”. 
Trout would not rise, or if they did, it was only 
to give a gentle “ knock ” to the fly ; and if this 
was so in the old days, it is more so now (after 
May is half-way through in particular), for, save 
in the warm summer evenings or dark still nights, 
the Tweed trout is well able to take care of him¬ 
self once in condition! Those who despise Scotch 
trout as only half educated creatures, are hereby 
invited to try conclusions with the trout of the 
Tweed and the Teviot, with artificial fly only, 
after the middle of May, and to record their 
average baskets for a fortnight’s fishing. It would 
be interesting if the dry fly disciple should win 
the trick, which I, as a disciple of the wet fly. 
have so often lost. 
(To he continued.) 
CHARACTERISTIC NORWEGIAN 
STREAAIS. 
Once more in the northern valleys and glens 
there is the sound of many waters ; across the 
glaciers and the vast snow drifts of the upper 
fjelds the north wind still blows, but with abated 
bitterness, for mingled with its wintry accents 
there comes once more the breath of spring. 
Through the driving mist a watery sun gleam.s 
fitfully over the snow-clad mountains, from which 
torrents innumerable are pouring into the valleys; 
in sheltered nooks among the pine foi’ests, the 
first timid wild flowers are peeping forth ; the 
great rivers, so recently silent and ice-bound, are 
roaring in heavy flood to the sea, and, sniffing 
from afar the mighty volumes of fresh water, 
the salmon are hurrying up the ijords in shoals. 
Awakened from his long sleep by the same 
potent influence, the bear has deserted his winter 
den and is seeking the wherewithal to sati-fy the 
apj)elite engendered by his many months of 
abstinence; in the depths of the forest the caper¬ 
cailzie and the blackcock are courting the 
admiration of their female friends, strutting about 
and displaying their glossy plumage ; on the bare 
birch trees of Lofodeu and Westeraalen the 
ryper sit, a silent company, while high in air the 
eagles swoop, and w ith “ piercing ken ” seek their 
prey. , 
Across the dreary wastes of Lapland an^ci 
Finmarken, the Lapps and their reindeer heids 
are starting on their long and toilsome journey 
to the coast, where among the salt breezes the 
deer will nibble the crisp herbage and escape 
from the attacks of the bloodthirsty mosquito, to 
return once more in autumn, invigorated by their 
summer trip, and from many a Norwegian hom^ 
stead the cattle and ponies are rushing, mad with 
the delight of recovered liberty, fresh air and 
food. On the coasts of the icy sea the toilers 
of the deep are still at work ; the rivers are still 
in the grip of the frost king and sheeted in ice ; 
the great lakes still lie silent and unresponsi ve to 
the gusts that sweep over their wide surfaces. 
But even for these the time of summer, though 
brief, is at hand ; the birch will ere long put forth 
its tender shoots, the water from the ice-bound 
morasses and tundras will be reh ased, and the 
fountains sing again.” 
Europe offers many summer play-grounds to 
the wandering Briton in whom the love of sport 
is innate, but the nearest and most easily avail¬ 
able substitute for Scotland, with its deer forests, 
grouse moors, and salmon rivers, is undoubtedly 
to be found in old Norway. It has now become 
the favourite resort of thousands of tourists, 
many of whom on their return plunge into print 
regarding their experiences. However, with the 
possible woes or pleasures of these we do not pro¬ 
pose to deal in this paper, but would merely make 
reference to some of the salmon rivers, which 
differ from one another considerably in the 
individual characteristics as well as in the season 
during which they fish best. With the exception 
of the month of December and the first ten days 
of January, say six weeks in all, the British 
salmon fisher need never be idle. The Ilth of 
the latter month is the opening day on the Thurso 
and the Naver, as is the ISth on the Loch and 
River Tay, and thenceforward until May, 
“■ spring ” salmon fishing in Scotland may be said 
to be in full swing. In that month some of the 
rivers in southern Norway begin to fish, in June 
many salmon are taken with the rod on the rivers 
of thegreat Trondhjem Fjord and neighbourhood, 
and in the far north July is the month par excel¬ 
lence. While, however, the fishing on these is over ' 
at the latest by the middle of August, some of the 
streams in the country about Stavanger and as 
far north as the Nord Fjord fish right up to the J 
end of the season, when the glutton may betake ! 
himself once more to home waters, and “ tak’ 
his till ” of the autumn fishing on our famous 
Border river. 
Owing to the proximity of the mountain ranges 
to the west coast of Norway, few of the rivers 
descending therefrom towards the west are acces¬ 
sible to the migratory salmonidae for any con¬ 
siderable distance; all are dependent on snow 
and ice for their summer snpply of water, and all 
those which have not reservoirs to fall back upon 
in the shape of large lakes or glaciers fall away 
to nothing after the supply of snow which fell 
the previous winter has been exhausted, unless, 
indeed, a timely rain flood should come to the 
angler’s assistance. As a matter of fact these 
summer rainfloods, however, on rivers of a tor¬ 
rential character, are not unmitigated blessings; 
they make the water absolutely unflshable during 
their continuance, and their subsidence is so 
rapid that it remains in order a very-short time. 
During a somewhat lengthy fishing experience on 
these northern waters, w'e can only recollect two 
occasions on which the season’s bag was very 
materially increased by a summer rainflood. 
The first of these occurred within a fortnight 
of the beginning of the fishing season, our 
prospects for which were bad, owing to 
the smallness of the snowfall on the fjelds 
the preceding winter. Had there been no 
rain, the river, a large one, could not have 
lasted out another week; as it turned out, we 
killed to our own rod 23001b. of salmon, besides a 
very considerable quantity of grilse and sea- 
trout, our friends benefiting in like degree. The 
largest salmon weighed 401b., and they averaged 
211b. throughout. The other rainflood took place 
on the same stream within a fortnight of the 
date when the fishing was generally con- 
