a time adopted boring tactics. I was able to recover most of the line he had taken out, and then he made another run and a jump, and for some time after that we followed him over the loch. On two occasions he made the most determined efforts to get into some weeds, and it was only by keeping a very severe strain upon him that I managed to keep clear of them. I never played a fish which jumped so many times or sulked less. On one occasion, after taking a large amount of my line, he suddenly turned and headed straight back again for the boat, and although Sandy did all he could to keep out of his way, the fish startled us at the end of his mad run by jumping suddenly clean out of the water within three or four yards of the boat, and falling with a tremendous splash. Do what I could I did not seem to have any real effect on the fish, who seemed to do almost exactly as he liked with me, except on the two occasions when he tried to get into the weeds, when, expecting every minute that we might part company, I was determined, whatever happened, that he should come where I wished him to come. We saw that the fish had taken the bob fly, and this added to my apprehensions, as I was afraid, particularly as I knew the loch was not deep, that the tail fly would catch in something at the bottom of the loch, and there would then be a catastrophe. Time wore on, and my back and arms began to ache most prodigiously. Still the fish seemed as strong as ever. My brother said he must have some lunch, and whenever Sandy and I got the chance we managed to eat some sandwiches. I began to wonder how much longer the fly would hold, and whether this fish would prove to be one more of the many good fish lost through the fly working out at the end of a long fight.