One such I saw which could not have weighed under three pounds, a short,
thick, dark-yellow fish.
I was using a light two-handed rod, and fancied that a single Test-fly on
very fine tackle would be the best lure. It certainly rose the trout, if
one threw into the circle they made; but they never were hooked. One
fish of about a pound and a half threw himself out of the water at it,
hit it, and broke the fine tackle. So I went on raising them, but never
getting them. As long as the sun blazed and no breeze ruffled the water,
they rose bravely, but a cloud or even a ripple seemed to send them down.
At last I tried a big alder, and with that I actually touched a few, and
even landed several on the shelving bank. Their average weight, as we
proved on several occasions, was exactly three-quarters of a pound; but
we never succeeded in landing any of the really big ones.
A local angler told me he had caught one of two pounds, and lost another
"like a young grilse," after he had drawn it on to the bank. I can
easily believe it, for in no loch, but one, have I ever seen so many
really big and handsome fish feeding. Loch Beg is within a mile of a
larger and famous loch, but it is infinitely better, though the other
looks much more favourable in all ways for sport. The only place where
fishing is easy, as I have said, is a mere strip of coast under the hill,
where there is some gravel, and the mouth of a very tiny feeder, usually
dry.
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