field again, without so much as shaking himself. His performance was worthy of his tackle, and no more; and a few salmon hooks made him as happy as a prince. There are trout of a large size in a loch about four miles off, but my landlord, with the laziness characteristic of the whole Highland race, had not yet got his boat sent up for the season. I spent another day wandering about among some miserable streams, where they promised me sport, but without the smallest semblance of it, and on

July 30th proceeded a stage or two to Dalwhinnie Inn, and by one o'clock of the day was on Loch Ericht, which is close by, and enjoys a high reputation for trout. Now, however, that I came to put it to the proof, I found that it was regularly netted by Sir John Muir Mackenzie, the proprietor, and indeed he hove in sight while I was there with a long tail of gillies, and drew the nets before my helpless eyes. They will be netted by Old Nick some day, who first invented these infernal meshes. As might be expected, the sport was poor, scarcely a dozen small trout, eight or ten to the pound. Here I was told that the best fishing was at Loch Laggan, some ten miles farther off, but I am now too old to be caught with chaff, and did not pursue the willo'-the-wisp out of my own course.

August 1st. The mail took me to Blair Athole in time for church, but as I found there was no service there that day, I had leisure to contemplate the Deity through his works, among the crags and falls of the Bruar and the Tilt. It was in the name of the former stream, the banks of which were then unplanted, that Burns wrote his "Petition of the Bruar Water," addressed to the Duke of Athole:

"Let fragrant birks, in woodbines drest,

My craggy cliffs adorn;

And, for the little songster's nest,

The close embow'ring thorn."

Nor did his Grace despise the appeal. The banks are now shaded by the friendly birch and hazel.

August 2nd.-Blair Athole. To-day, having carefully inquired if there was no restriction on fishing, and been informed that there was not, I hied to the Garry, famed in song, and tried for trout. I found the river covered with sawdust, of which there was an unceasing flow from some adjoining pit, which could not fail to injure the cleanly trout. I caught but three, of about half a pound each, in two hours. Having, however, raised a small grilse in one pool, I tried another, where a salmon might be, and adopted a method of fishing small streams, which I recommend to my brother sportsmen. Instead of standing at the side of the stream, and throwing across it, by which your fly is carried down before a fish can catch or even see it, I went into the water above the stream, and, dropping my fly into it a little above the break or fall, allowed it to float down, and to hang a little on the current. On this occasion, the value of this wrinkle was proved, for, after a moment's pause, my fly, which was a large trout one, such as is used for lakes, was carried to the bottom, and my rod bent with a great weight. For a quarter of an hour I was in a glorious uncertainty as to what I had hold of; but I at length got a glimpse of a large fish. Just at this moment a gentleman came up on the opposite side of the river, attended by a fine Highlander, who was the bearer of a

splendid salmon-rod and tackle; and I could easily see that my presence and occupation there were anything but an expected pleasure to them. The gillie came across the river, but seemed reluctant to challenge me; and I thought it best to "tak' the first word of flyttin'," as the Scotch say, and commenced the palaver by "hoping I did not intrude." I found that the stranger was the neighbouring proprietor, Mr. M'Inray, of Lude, who had only two pools, which he had laid out for the day's sport, and the best of which I was then engaged at, in the act of killing the salmon which might have been expected to have fallen to him. He had, however, the doubtful satisfaction of seeing the fish played by me for half an hour longer, and his attendant that of gaffing him for me; although, I must confess, that the latter did seem to think me pretty cool when I asked him to do so, and appeared inclined first to ask leave of his master. Having secured the fish, a 14-pounder, and no small trophy for my trout-tackle, I carried him across the stream, and presented him to the gentleman, who, on receiving my card and explanation, behaved with a politeness which relieved me from the embarrassment I felt under at being liable to be mistaken for a trespasser; and, with a courtesy the more striking under the circumstances, invited me to try the river whenever I should be in that quarter, only giving him notice, in order to prevent disappointment. The same afternoon I dropped down to Dunkeld, per mail, and on

3rd and 4th August I fished the noble Tay. From comparing notes with others, I discovered that I might almost as well have saved myself the trouble of trying it. It is rented by the innkeeper (Grant) for the use of his customers, and the beauty of the place makes it well worth a visit any day, independently of the fishing.

5th August.-Started by coach for Edinburgh. It rained cats and dogs; and, to complete the comfort, there were women outside, whose umbrellas conducted it in rivers down one's neck and shoulders. Three miles south of Perth the coach pulled up at the porch of a pretty hotel, where stood a brilliant party of pleasant-looking signors, and very lovely girls. I found it was a watering-place, called Bridge of Earn. The temptation was irresistible, with nothing but a wet jacket to oppose to it. I was off the box in a twinkling, and I spent two most agreeable days at this place, in the midst of a delightful party, and with a cuisine the best I ever yet saw, an artist being brought down from the metropolis for the season. Nor was the rod and line forgotten. I was made a regular job of by one of those men who seem born to be courtiers, as they never answer you conclusively. He agreed with me in every suggestion I made, until I actually begged him not, and trudged me about the whole country, trying every stream, and even ditch, as if they could possibly have held fish, when I am sure no such thing was ever heard of in them in the memory of man.

I now resolved to close my tour; but could not do so without once more enjoying a cast from "the beautiful banks of the Tweed." I reluctantly passed by the towers of Abbotsford, and old Mr. Owen's, to whom I formerly introduced your readers, and whose piping voice I should like to have heard once more, but he has for some time sub-let his fishing to a gentleman, on whose sport my slight acquaintance with him, although not altogether unknown to him, did not allow me to trespass. I therefore resolved to finish with a day with my friend, Mr. Douglas, of Adderstone, at the beautiful seat of Old Melrose, a

place which promised a fitting close. My friend despatched a servant to bring up a boat to the higher part of the water for me; and, in the meanwhile, I proceeded alone to fish a stream which could be reached from the wooded bank. In a very few casts I had hold of a lively fish, which at first lay quietly with the fly, as if waiting to drown it; but finding that would not do, he rushed with it into the strong part of the current, determined to make short work of the poor insect. Slowly, however, the strain on the line brought him nearer to the shore, and I could not help speculating as to his feelings, when he imagined himself likely to be flown away with by so tiny an object. Several times he repeated the same rush into strong water, but the little butterfly conquered at last, and I prepared to gaff him without assistance.

a good deal annoyed by the trees, however, which prevented my reaching him without slackening my line; and in consequence, when I was just about to clip him, he put his tail to the ground, wriggled himself off the hook, and was gone, leaving me staring at the spot where I had thought him all my own, with my gaff in the one hand and my rod in the other. A good deal disappointed, I dropped farther down, to where the water forms into many rapid streams; and, crossing some of these with great difficulty, for the water was high and strong, pitched my fly well nigh to the opposite bank, at a spot which I knew to be a likely one. The second throw, a fish darted like a gleam of light across a small piece of smooth water, and was fast on the hook. With this addition, I had greater difficulty than ever in regaining the shore. I thought I was never to kill this fish. Taking advantage of the streams, he allowed them to carry him down, and I was obliged to follow him; and at length getting tired, I proceeded to gaff him too soon. Having no attendant, for the man had not yet appeared with the boat, I was obliged to take him up very tight; and, in consequence, when I was endeavouring to reach him with the clip, my rod broke, and I missed him. He was so far spent, however, that I could trace his broad back making off but slowly, and I commenced a regular chase in the water, clipping at him with the gaff, when a slippery stone tripped me up, and I went splash into the river, macintosh, boots, and all. By the blessing of Providence I fell with my head down the stream, so that the water carried my feet under me, and I was thus, by the help of the rod, enabled to regain them. Had I fallen up the stream, my legs, which were most in the water, would have been carried from under me, and I should probably have been heard of no more, until I was myself fished up in a herring-net, off Berwick. When I recovered my feet, I found the fish was still fast to the hook; and, seizing the line, for I was in a humour to make no bones of him, I had him fast on the gaff in a moment. I continued the sport, and had scarcely recommenced, when Mr. Douglas's lady came past on her walk. One is sure to be caught when they least wish it; and I can't help laughing at the picturesque appearance I must have cut, wading in waterproof boots, and yet dripping wet from head to foot, like a half-drowned rat, and all taking my pleasure," as old Isaac says. The cold soon forced me to close my operations and my tour together. It afforded me a great deal of pleasure, and some experience of that unostentatious hospitality for which the Scotch are known, and which produces a more enduring reliance upon them in the end, than if it approached you at first under a more showy exterior.

66

A STROLL THROUGH BENGAL IN 1842.

Ferozepore, March 20, 1842.

HERE I am, encamped in a wild part of upper India, some 1,100 miles from Calcutta, surrounded by a desolate and barren country, studded, here and there, with some mighty ruin, the abode, perhaps, of a prince who reigned despotic when India was herself, with little to vary the monotony of the scene around, save, at times, an antelope bounding across, or a fox stealthily crawling out to commence his tour of plunder. 'Tis amidst scenes like these that the mind is charmed by thoughts of home, and you bitterly repent the moment when necessity, or, far less excusable, a discontented spirit, tempted you to roam from it.

No doubt our eastern possessions hold out great temptations to the sportsman; but still, to contend against a climate so injurious to Europeans, in fact, exposure to which, in most cases, sooner or later proves fatal, is a terrible drawback. Having just completed a march nearly through Bengal, and had opportunities of seeing a good deal of the sporting, as far as small game goes, a general account of it may not be uninteresting. As you only march, on an average, fourteen miles a day, and a great part of that before sunrise, you have ample time for the gun, and, though now terribly hot, still, during December, January, February, and the first part of March, the heat in the upper provinces, even at mid-day, is tolerable. I found no sport till I arrived at the foot of the Rajmal hills, about 200 miles from Calcutta. To attempt to describe the contrast they afford to the flat country which, till then, had wearied the eye, is impossible. Their scenery is truly noble; one range of scarped rocks piled on another, covered with stunted evergreen shrubs, here and there intersected by deep nullahs, the dense brushwood which clothes the banks being so thick as to be impenetrable to aught save some lurking monster of the jungle, and excluding the searching rays of even an Indian sun. These hills abound with bears, wolves, hyenas, and every species of lesser game. At times, though rarely, you meet with a tiger. It was my delight to pass the day roaming through this splendid range of hills. I was disappointed in the little sport I got, but the jungle is too thick to be pervious to beaters, and too high, in most parts, to shoot any winged game. Though the place swarms with bears, I never had the luck to come across one. A European private was more fortunate. When out, as was his daily practice, looking about with a gun, glorying in a barrel about six feet long, he almost ran against a respectable old black bear. Now it is acknowledged to be a most dangerous experiment to wound a bear when you have little chance of killing it. This, however, did not seem to enter his mind; at him he let drive with No. 6, and, luckily enough, bruin took no further notice of it than doubling himself up and rolling down some twenty feet of rocks. One or two others were met with, but none killed. One tiger was seen, and that was when one of the officers and his lady were quietly enjoying their evening ride on an elephant. Perhaps the finest shooting here is

the jungle fowl, which are numerous enough, and put you more in mind of pheasant-shooting than any other. I quitted these hills with regret, and left all sport till I arrived at Shurghatty, 300 miles from Calcutta. We had beautiful quail-shooting here, in the high cates, varied with a few grey partridges and hares. I know no shooting so exciting as that of quail; they require much and constant practice to kill well. So numerous are they in some parts, that I knew an officer, a first-rate shot, kill eighty brace before 10, A.M., and this he did on two

occasions.

The hares and grey partridges are very similar to the English, but not so large. Wild-fowl we found plentiful in almost every tank, and I think the teal has the gamest flavour of any bird out here. Our sport continued thus, though sometimes very scarce, until we passed Benares, Allahabad, and Cawnpore - and now the shooting began. We were now 650 miles from Calcutta, and the best day's sport I had up to that time was at a place called Meerunke Cerai. I killed several wild peafowl, hares, partridges, and quail, and a bird I had never seen before, called the rock pigeon. It is the grouse of India, to which bird it is very similar. Ah! reader, were you ever out here? If not, you cannot fancy the grandeur of peafowl-shooting, still it is dangerous to try it near villages, as the natives worship them. Indeed, one of my men (he of the bear notoriety) got nearly exterminated by a mob of about 300 niggers, when returning home with some twelve fine peafowl; and had he not wielded his long fowling-piece to some effect, or, as he expressed it, "given some of them the top of the morning" with it, it would have been U-P with him. We began, now, to find deer very numerous. They are a species of antelope. The females have no horns, and are of a deep fawn colour. The males are of that colour the first season, but get darker every year, till at five they are nearly of a fine glossy black, with spiral horns. They are very wary, and as the country is quite flat, it is hard work stalking them. Our sport kept to us through Allyghur, and here we began to find hares and birds very plentiful in the grain cates. These I can only compare to vetch at home. They afford splendid cover, nearly a foot high. From Delhi to Kurnaul is decidedly the best shooting up the new road. We here got the black partridge very numerous. It is a really noble bird, larger than the grey, and of a much gamer flavour. They frequent the long, dry grass, and require a good deal to put them up. In fact, you cannot walk too slow for Indian shooting. In the heat of the day the birds lie like stones, and you require almost to kick them before they will rise. I went out at a place called Barotah, and I really began to think it must be a preserve. I had about thirty-five shots as fast as I could fire, when my little gun, a favourite Joe Manton, began to get uncommonly warm. "One more shot," thought I, "and I'll go to camp and change her." Well, I mark'd a grey down. Up he rose. Bang! I felt a curious sensation; the gun had blown to pieces in my hand. Though I did not feel wounded, still I felt convinced some member must be absent without leave. I cautiously searched for my nose-all right! and after some time I came to the conclusion that I had got off scot free. This was the more wonderful, as the barrel had not merely split up, but had shivered to bits from about an inch above the breech down to the locks. It was done as clean as if it had been cut down vertically; both locks were blown