To sink the flies deep,
and move them with short jerks, appears, now and then, to be efficacious.
There has been some controversy about Loch Awe trouting; this is as
favourable a view of the sport as I can honestly give. It is not
excellent, but, thanks to the great beauty of the scenery, the many
points of view on so large and indented a lake, the charm of the wood and
wild flowers, Loch Awe is well worth a visit from persons who do not
pitch their hopes too high.
Loch Awe would have contented me less had I been less fortunate in my
boatman. It is often said that tradition has died out in the Highlands;
it is living yet.
After three days of north wind and failure, it occurred to me that my
boatman might know the local folklore--the fairy tales and traditions. As
a rule, tradition is a purely professional part of a guide's stock-in-
trade, but the angler who had my barque in his charge proved to be a
fresh fountain of legend. His own county is not Argyleshire, but
Inverness, and we did not deal much in local myth. True, he told me why
Loch Awe ceased--like the site of Sodom and Gomorrah--to be a cultivated
valley and became a lake, where the trout are small and, externally,
green.
"Loch Awe was once a fertile valley, and it belonged to an old dame. She
was called Dame Cruachan, the same as the hill, and she lived high up on
the hillside.
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