growl, and snarl, and find all sorts of faults with all I had done and all I had not done, it was too much for human nature. I kept my temper, however, and quietly stepping over the gunwale into about four feet water, I said, "Good morning, gentlemen, I think you will do better without me; we will meet at dinner." And extremely glad I do believe they were to get rid of me.

My reflections, as I lounged along the lake side, were not of the most agreeable nature. I felt like a guilty thing, like one who ought to be ashamed; but still as the knot was on my line without my knowledge, I found excuses for myself, and my disposition not being a despondent one, soon recovered my usual equanimity; and when I got out of sight of the old boys, sat down, reeled all the line off my wheel, untied the knot, and resolved to fish for trout along the river which runs from the lake, and flows, foaming amongst rocks and precipices, and glades and meadows, towards the inn at Bethgellart.

I began at the spot where the stream leaves the lake, sometimes tossing the smaller fish lightly to the bank, sometimes wading under overhanging trees and slowly drawing to the landing-net the speckled beauties of a larger size. The day was fine, my ardour great, the water in good order, and my success was commensurate, for I was really a handy trout fisher. Long before the slanting beams of the declining sun had given evidence of the approach of evening, my small kreel was full; but not

satisfied with such abundant and unexpected sport, I went on filling the pockets of my jacket, until their weight became unpleasant, and the waning light warned me to expedite my progress towards my quarters for the night. Having passed a considerable portion of the river without fishing, the path led through some low and rich meadows, along which I wearily strayed, now and then throwing my fly into an inviting pool, unwilling to give up the sport, yet conscious that I ought to seek food and repose: when just as the dimness of twilight silently settled upon mountain and valley, and blending roads and rivers, trees and rocks into one dull hue, the path approached the river's edge where its waters having hurried down a short sharp rapid were gathered into a circular basin in which they eddied round and round in concentric circles except close to the bank on which I stood, whence they were carried forward by a moderate current. Into the still water at the far side of this current, I deftly dropped my fly, letting the water carry it round towards me, when suddenly I found an enormous weight upon the end of my line; immediately I gave the butt and wound up, until I felt, for I could not see, the loop of my casting line grate against the ring on the top of my rod. I peered into the water with all my eyes, but nothing could I discern, except floating bubbles and a dim reflection of the clouds and trees. In vain I raised my hand and rod, endeavouring to move the object of my anxiety; but I might as well have

attempted to push Snowdon from its base. I then began to doubt whether I had hooked a fish, a log, or a stone. After about five minutes of this incertitude, my fears were awakened by the animal, whatever it was, running down the stream at a rate which made me pull into a fast trot, and caused my wheel to discourse most eloquent music. Suddenly he stopped in a small pool in the middle of the river, and again I took in line as far as prudence would permit, and bore hard upon him, hoping to float him over to my side of the stream. At this time I actually suspected he was an otter!! Again he left the quiet eddy and tumbled, and rolled, and splashed, as I could hear, down, and down, and down the river. I could not stop him. I could with difficulty run fast enough to prevent him from running out all my line. Through rapids, and pools, and streams, and eddies, down, down the river he went to a spot where it turns an acute angle, and where its banks are thickly studded with overhanging hawthorns. These I could not pass by land; the river was deep underneath them; I could not lift my rod high enough to clear the line of them; I stood hesitating on the river's brink, holding on by my rod till it was ready to break; the wheel was about to give off its last turn of line; I plunged in up to my chin; again I approached my enemy, walking, and stumbling, and winding, and again got so near as to take in all but my casting line. Again I looked and peered and peeped and stared and blinked into the dark waters, but nothing could I see

of my tormentor. After waiting for a while I resolved to endeavour to put my landing net under where he ought to be, according to my calculations; in effecting which, as fortune would have it, the net caught in my bob fly, and at the same moment my foe made another rush down the stream. I suffered the landing net to go along with him, and followed as I could, sometimes up to my middle, sometimes clothed in water to my armpits, and frequently falling on my face, and with much difficulty regaining my feet, encumbered as I was with my pockets full of trout as well as my basket. My patience was nearly exhausted : at last, after following down and down the stream, I ascertained that he had again stopped, and when I approached the place where I considered that he was, I perceived the landing net caught between two stones, and determined, whatever might be the consequences, to give up sounding the bed of the river, and betake me to the shore. I therefore seized the net with a bold hand, and strode recklessly towards the bank; fortunately, at this place the bottom consisted of gravel, so that I could keep my footing steadily, and directing my steps to where the surface of the meadow dipped lowest towards the water, I came upon the very spot where a drain or grasscut emptied itself into the river: I walked up into it, drawing the landing net gradually, and the weight attached to it, after me; as I proceeded I found the drain grew narrower and narrower, when the idea occurred to me of pushing on, until the fish, if fish it

was, would be unable to turn: this I did, and coming to a very narrow part of the drain sooner than I expected, let fall both rod and net, flung myself down on the grass, put both my arms deep into the water, and threw out, ten feet into the field, a fine, fresh salmon, weighing ten pounds!!!

I shall not attempt to describe my triumphant feelings as I proceeded to my inn, nor my exultation when on my arrival in the hall of that comfortable little hostelry, I overheard my old friends Knipe and Rice Thomas assuring two newly arrived piscators that there was no sport to be had in the neighbourhood; that the river was too low for trout-fishing; that the salmon had not yet run up; and that the only stray fish which had essayed to do so, had been that morning wounded and lost by the awkwardness of a young wild Irishman. Nor will I delay to narrate how I refuted all their arguments, dissipated all their facts, and macadamised all their theories, by marching into the room where they sat in all the comfort of after-dinner ease, throwing my salmon on the sideboard, with the small broken fly still in his lip; calling lustily for dish after dish, and filling them from my basket and my pockets with as numerous a collection of beautiful trout as I ever saw killed in a day in North Wales.*

* Since these events the Tweed and the Tay, the Erne, the Moy, the Bush, and the Shannon have yielded victims to my more experienced angle.