habits, after such
riotous excess. Still, I had enjoyed a downright hard day's work, and
had deserved the success which was denied. The position, therefore,
was--Friday, Saturday, and Monday lost through the unfishable condition
of the river, and just a chance on Wednesday if there was no further
rise of water.

Wednesday was sunny, and the water had fallen about a foot during the
night, so that Tay ought soon to be in ply, for another frost occurred
in the night, and the snow did not appear to be serious. The order of
the head boatman was for harling. You have two boatmen on this river,
and they had to exert themselves to the utmost to handle her with so
heavy a current. It was my first experience of systematic harling.
The rods are out at the stern of the boat, and the angler sits on a
cross seat facing them, and so placed that he can lay hands upon either
in an instant. Three greenheart rods of about 16 ft. are displayed
fanwise; that is to say, there is a rod in the middle extended straight
forwards, the rods right and left slant outwards, and they are kept in
position by a contrivance in the bottom of the boat into which the
button of each rod handle fits, and by grooves on the gunwale on either
side in which the rod rests and is kept at the proper angle. The butts
of these rods are close together in these appointed niches under the
seat in the bottom of the boat, and the points are naturally right,
left and centre, widely separated. The fourth rod in this boat was a
single piece of greenheart, 6 ft. in length, but admirably made, and in
thickness was something like the second joint of an ordinary salmon
rod. The workmanship was so good that it was a perfect miniature.
This is the rod that is used for a spinning bait, and is placed at the
angler's left hand. It was equipped with a sand eel and the gay little
metal cap with flanges, which was invented by Mr. Malloch to facilitate
the spinning. The 3 in. flies we used were Jock Scott, Nicholson (a
favourite Tay fly), and Black Dog.

The two men settled to their oars, and I sat before my rods ready to
play upon them as occasion arose. We had not been under way five
minutes, and I had not finished wondering how the Tom Thumb rod would
behave at a crisis, when a sudden test was applied. The winch sang
out, and I had the rod up and under mastery in the twinkling of an eye,
with the fish running smartly and pulling hard. Meanwhile, the head
boatman winched