"Can't you stop rowing then, and let me catch some fish," exclaimed Norman, turning round with an aggrieved look to the old man. "It matters much more that I should catch fish, than that we should get to the end of the loch just to please Fanny." "I have no objection to stop rowing if you wish it, young gentleman," said Sandy, "though I would rather hear you say that you wanted to please your sister more than yourself." Norman did not heed the rebuke, but seeing his hook sink down fully believed that he was going to catch a fish. He waited and waited with unusual patience for him, but still his float rested without moving on the calm waters. "There are no fish here, young gentleman, that have a fancy for your hook. We will go on to the end of the loch as I promised your sister, and try what we can do when we come back. Just sit down and let your line hang out if you like. There will be no harm in doing that, though the fish may not be the worse for it." As Sandy began to move his oars, Norman was obliged to do as he was told. He looked very sulky and angry however, and would not even answer Fanny when she spoke to him. At last they reached the end of the loch. Here the mountain appeared to be cloven in two--a narrow channel running at the bottom of the gorge and uniting Loch Tulloch to another larger loch beyond. Fanny was delighted, especially when Sandy poling the boat along proceeded onwards till the loch and bright sunshine being left behind, they found themselves in the gloom of the narrow gorge with lofty cliffs arching overhead, so that when they looked up, all they could see was a narrow strip of blue sky above them. "We cannot go further," said Sandy, "for some big rocks stop the passage, or I would take you a row through a larger loch than our ain. If you stand up you can just see its blue waters shining brightly at the head of the gorge." "I want to go back and begin fishing," cried Norman, in an angry tone, "we are wasting our time here." "Yours is very valuable time, young gentleman, I doubt not," remarked Sandy, standing up in the bow of the boat, which having turned round, he began to pole out by the way they had entered. They were soon again in the loch, which looked brighter and more beautiful than ever after the gloom of the gorge. They had not gone far when Norman again insisted on stopping. "You promised that you would let me fish on our way back, and I am sure there must be numbers about here," he said, throwing in his line. "I should not wonder that there was no worm on your hook," observed Sandy, after they had waited some time. "I thought so," he continued, when Norman pulled up his line; "you canna expect ony fish to bite at a bare hook." "But put on another worm," said Norman, who again tried for some time with equal want of success. He was beginning to lose patience. "Try deeper, young gentleman, fish swim further down than you think for," observed Sandy.