NOTES OF A SALMON-FISHING TOUR IN SCOTLAND. SOME little time ago, having resolved upon a salmon-fishing tour into canny Scotland, I found myself at Newcastle, from whence a coach, in an hour or two, took me to Coldstream, and, in another hour, to the Cross Keys at Kelso, where I purposed to commence operations, on the Tweed. Kelso is a pretty country town, and the Cross Keys an excellent inn, having been the head-quarters of the Duke of Buccleuch's hunt, before his Grace built the inn at St. Boswell's, near the kennel; and, at one time, when the turn-out included Lord Elcho, Sir David Baird, the Baillies, and many more of that stamp, no provincial hunt could exceed it in brilliancy of performance, or in raciness of conviviality. Information being previously conveyed to Mr. Stevenson, the lessee of the river, of the time about which he might expect me, I marched down to the water the morning after my arrival, but found Stevenson engaged for the day with a worthy colonel, who, I guessed, from the manner in which he handled his tackle, to be more distinguished on the field than on the flood. A tyro in the art is of great injury to the tacksman (as the lessee is here called), seeing that the fish which may be caught are a source of profit to the latter, to whom they are held to belong; and much did he grumble, when we again met in the evening, at the warrior, who (although the fisherman contrived to assist his throwing, by placing his boat so as that the wind should carry the fly to the right spot), when the fish rose, snatched it away ere it could be taken-not an uncommon fault with beginners. Having paid a visit to the shop of Forrest, a good rod-maker, and supplied myself with a few flies, I, next morning, again sought the water-side. The river, about Kelso, is divided into what is termed the upper and the lower water, of which the former is considered preferable. Thither Stevenson led me, and I was soon engaged, casting my favourite fly (a black Turkey wing, with white tip and dark body) across "the Shot," that magnificent stretch of water, out of which the Duke of Roxburghe has, I believe, in the course of a day, taken ten, sixteen, and even twenty, grilse and salmon. I had not made many casts, when a clean little grilse (that is, a salmon of the second year, returning from his first trip to the sea), of about seven pounds weight, made his appearance to inspect my fly, and immediately gave me the pleasant perception of his being snugly hooked. I landed from the boat, and, after having been about ten minutes exercised by his active movements, upwards and downwards, hither and thither, landed him, high and dry, slipped him by the tail into the boat, and prepared to add to him his fellows. Nothing more appearing to move in "the Shot," I proceeded up to "the Huddles," a good, but rather rapid stream. I commenced my cast at the top, and had reached about the middle, when a slapping sixteen-pound salmon rose short at the fly. I instantly raised my fly, while the boat was removed a yard or two up the stream; and scarcely had I resumed my labours, when the goodly fish again showed his snout with better aim, and disappeared with the fly, until brought up by a steady jerk, that caused him to strike out across the broadest part of the stream with some sixty yards of line. Taking advantage of his stopping to breathe, I began to lead him gently towards me, making him feel the weight of a stiff eighteen feet rod, to which, however, he showed his decided aversion, by widening the distance between us. "Tak' care, sir," said Stevenson, "he's a terrible, strong, clean ane. Are ye a' double gut?" "Double or treble," I answered. But all in vain at that moment I experienced the indescribably unpleasant sensation of the line coming towards me, unfettered in its course, being broken off near the hook, from that decay incident to things in general, and fishing tackle in particular. The line had lain too long in my book. The fisherman vented his wrath by breaking in pieces, with rapid jerks, "the cursed, vile, rotten trash," as he called it, while the better to disguise my inward anguish, with affected composure I lighted a cigar. Better tackle being substituted, I soon succeeded in capturing, in this excellent stream, a good-sized fish, which, though superior in weight to the one I had lost, was also clean run; and the satisfaction with which the tacksman applied the handle of the gaff to his head, tended to restore his better humour, and forcibly reminded me how often, in this world, the innocent bear the punishment of the guilty. Once more afloat, I made offer of a fly, having a bright mottled drakewing, dark body, mixed with a streak of red, and orange tuft, which, when I had just reached the last cast of the stream, attracted the attention of a greedy kelt, as a fish is termed after spawning. From his enfeebled state, he thus preferred the easy water at the tail of the stream. Nevertheless, contrary to anticipation, he afforded good twenty minutes' sport, and, when landed, proved about ten pounds weight, which added something to the dignity of my pannier. About this time the voice of appetite, augmented by the morning's air and occupation, became loud in its call, and I moved that inspection should be had into a napkin-covered basket, lying in the boat. This being harmoniously agreed to, I was speedily seated on a grassy bank, enjoying the lion's share of a cold fowl, followed by a morsel of bread and cheese, just to relish a glass of London stout. In these endeavours I was ably seconded by Stevenson and his ally; and having, in the contents of our flask, toasted, "the life of men, and death of fish," we were prepared to resume our labours. It occasioned us some trouble to haul the boat up to that favourite haunt of fish, called "the Slates," from there being a slate rock on the north side of the river, which runs into the water, and, within a few yards of the side, dips, perpendicularly, twelve or fourteen feet. From this a fine gravelly bank shelves gradually to the other side. In fishing from the gravel, the angler must keep close to the bank, to avoid alarming his quick-sighted prey; and this we did, delivering our best and longest casts with unrewarded effort. I now tried the rocky side, on which I could approach close to deep water, and, with shortened line, and stiff rod, threw right in the teeth of the wind. The success of this manœuvre was speedily apparent in the musical whirring of the reel, and the moving cause was soon displayed in the momentary appearance of an active little fish, evidently going best pace, like a hard mouthed runaway on a snaffle. This served my purpose very well; and, having succeeded in keeping him going, and against the stream, too, he at length gave in, and proved, though small, symmetrical in shape-an Adonis of a fish, in short. Applying the axiom, "strike when the iron is hot"-which, in angling, meaneth, take fish while they are in the humour-we were, ere long, working, over this likely piece of water, a fly with strongly mottled turkey wings, at which a noble fish, either in jest or earnest, soon dashed from his deep lair. After a pause, I tried him again, and again he darted at it, causing the water to boil at his approach, but again without succeeding in his object. The third time, however, his perseverance was rewarded, and little rest did I give him, till he lay lifeless on the rock, a splendid fish of full fifteen pounds weight. Leaving this place, in somewhat elated mood, we now floated down the stream, the rapid current propelling the boat, now stem, now stern foremost, and bringing to my recollection an incident, related to me by Mr. Musters, of Nottinghamshire, which befel that well-known sportsman when fishing the Birgham water, a little below the place we then were in. The wind was high, and the man who was rowing the boat, being unable to guide it with certainty, made an unlucky turn just when Mr. Musters had delivered his cast, by which it happened that the hook, with all the force with which it had been sent out, came right towards that gentleman; and the point entering into the cartilaginous division of his nose, above the nostrils, the angler was fairly caught in his own toils. He was instantly landed, and, mounting a friend's pony, galloped into Kelso, with a couple of yards of line floating in the breeze behind him, thereby explaining to the surgeon, without many words, the purport of his visit. But this worthy, instead of detaching the line and silk, and then pulling the shank of the hook through and through, as he ought to have done, wrenched it upwards, causing the sufferer horrible pain, and leaving an indelible mark of his dexterity. Having now dropped down again to "the Shot," I persevered for an hour more, but had only one more rise, and that not successful. Encouragingly I was assured how many fish lay lurking in the pool; how here he had been raised; how there he had been pricked; how here been lost; how there been killed. Nevertheless, concluding my chance of sport, for the present, ended, I resolved on a retreat; and, when told, by Stevenson, how much fish liked to lay in this pool, replied, that I quite agreed with him, for not one seemed disposed to come out of it. Our way home lay through the beautiful park which surrounds Fleurs Castle, the seat of the Duke of Roxburghe. His Grace is a sworn brother of the angle, and was fishing on this very stream," the Shot," when he first saw his lovely duchess cantering past, by the riverside, on the way to Sir Thomas Mac Dougal Brisbane's. I hope she then caught a glimpse of him, for, certainly, a manly form, like his, could never look to greater advantage than in long fishing-boots, and short jacket, and wielding a stout rod and reel, with health blooming in the cheek, and success sparkling in the eye. His Grace has made his father-in-law, Sir Charles Dalbiac, also, an angler, and, as their styles are different, there is no little rivalry between them. The Duke, in the upper Kelso water, with his powerful rod, and cable tackle, literally walks his fish ashore, without delay; while the General, on the Sprouston Dub, with more curious apparatus, tires and exhausts the fish with a greater display of art. The Duke, it is said, produces the greater number of fish, the General, greater weight. Between the castle and the river is the spot where, 400 years ago, perished Scotland's king, James II., while laying siege to Roxburghe Castle. The ruins of this ancient building stand immediately on the other side of the stream, on a strip of land but a few yards broad, and which is all that separates, at this place, those two beautiful rivers, the Tweed and the Teviot, that so soon after unite their waters. I occasionally varied the scene, by taking a day on the Carron water, or Birgham Dub, a few miles below; but, as one day's fishing is much like another, I will not recapitulate the sport. But where else, by stream or lake, shall be found such another escort as Kerse, the water-bailiff at the latter place, the well-known "baillie," bright specimen of the picturesque, great lover of whisky, and come of a race of noted fishermen? I recollect, one evening, when I had resolved to roost in the village inn, at Birgham, the old baillie made his appearance, as large as life, and on deep potations bent. Being given to hospitality, I baulked not his inclination, and much regret that I cannot relate how oft his glass was emptied and replenished; the toasts he gave; the tales he told; and the songs he sung; to one of which, I well remember, he that night treated us seven separate times, each repetition, I admit, to a different tune. (To be continued.) GLEANINGS FROM MY TRAVELLING JOURNALS. BY LORD WILLIAM LENNOX. (Continued from page 102.) A SPORTING TRIP TO THE MISSOURI AND MISSISSIPPI RIVERS. It was in the latter end of July, 181-, that two sporting friends met me, by appointment, at Montreal, Lower Canada, to proceed to the Mississipi. Our first object was, to recruit a complement of Canadian voyageurs from the band that were usually to be found loitering about the place. This arrangement was left to the elder of my companions, whom I shall call Frank Somers. He had resided, the greater part of his life, in Canada, and acquired much knowledge of the various Indian tribes, and the country over which we were about to extend our pursuits. From the voyageurs attached to the Northwest Company, he engaged a number, sufficient, as he supposed, for present purposes; and, having laid in a supply of provisions, ammunition, and Indian goods, embarked all in one of those great canoes, at that time universally used by the fur traders for navigating the intricate and obstructed rivers. It was nearly forty feet long, and several feet in width; constructed of birch bark, sewed with fibres of the roots of the spruce tree, and daubed with the resin of the pine, instead of tar. The cargo was made up in packages, weighing about 100 lbs. each, for the facility of loading and unloading, and of transportation at portages. The canoe itself, though capable of holding a freight of upwards of four tons, could easily be carried on men's shoulders. Our craft was to be managed by a crew of ten, with two picked veterans, who were to receive double pay. These, termed the foreman and steersman, were to take their stations, one at the bow, and the other at the stern, to keep a look-out, and steer. The remainder, who were to work the pad dles, were called middle-men. In a few days, Frank Somers having reported "all ready," he, Charles Camelford (another nom de guerre), and myself, took our departure from St. Anne's, near the extremity of the Island of Montreal, the great starting-place of traders to the interior. Here, formerly, stood the ancient chapel of St. Anne, the patroness of the Canadian voyageurs, immortalized in Moore's Canadian Boat Song : "Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time; We'll sing at St. Anne's our parting hymn." It was here they made confession, and offered up their vows, previous to departing on any hazardous expedition. The shrine of the saint was decorated with relics and votive offerings, either to propitiate her favour, or in gratitude for some signal deliverance. It was the custom, too, of these devout vagabonds, after leaving the chapel, to have a grand carouse, in honour of St. Anne, and for the prosperity of the voyage; and, in this part of their devotions, our crew proved themselves by no means deficient. The expedition now made its way up the Ottawa, and, by the ancient route of the fur traders, along a succession of small lakes and rivers, to Michilimackinac,-Anglice, The Great Turtle. Our progress was slow and tedious, as the crew pulled regular "dock-yard fashion," and were ever ready to come to a halt, land, make a fire, put on the great pot, eat, drink, smoke, and gossip by the hour. It was not until the 1st of August that we arrived at Mackinaw, situated on the island of the same name, at the confluence of Lakes Huron and Michigan. Mackinaw, at the period I write of, was a mere village, stretching along a small bay, with a fine broad beach in front of its principal row of houses, and dominated by the old fort, which crowned an impending height. Here, at certain seasons, the traders arrived from all points, from Lake Superior and its tributary waters, the Mississippi, the Arkansas, the Missouri, and the other regions of the west. During our séjour, the place swarmed, like a hive, with traders, trappers, voyageurs, Indians, "North-westers," "South-westers,' idlers, &c. &c. Here we engaged a party of Indians to accompany us in a sporting expedition, and there is no portion of North America more abundantly supplied with fish, aquatic fowls, and wild game. Myriads |