’I’m afraid I don’t catch on quite,’ she said, unconsciously adopting one of her father’s phrases. ’Patience—patience,’ said he; and again he gripped her hand in his and the line seemed to run out clear with the gentlest possible forward movement. And then he put out more line—and still more and more—until every backward and upward swoop of the rod, and every forward cast, was accompanied by a ’swish’ through the air. This was all very well; and she was throwing a beautiful, clean line; but she began to wonder when the bones in her right hand would suddenly succumb and be crunched into a jelly. The weight of the rod—which seemed a mighty engine to her—did not tell on her, for his one hand did the whole thing; but his grip was terrible; and yet she did not like to speak. ’Now try for yourself,’ said he, and he stepped aside. ’Wait a minute,’ she said—and she shook her hand, to get the life back into it. ’I did not hurt you?’ said he, in great concern. ’We learn in suffering what we teach in song,’ she said lightly. ’If I am to catch a salmon with a fly-rod, I suppose I have got to go through something.’ She set to work again; and, curiously enough, she seemed to succeed better with the longer line than with the short one. There was less jerking; the forward movement was more even; and though she was far indeed from throwing a good line, it was very passable for a beginner. ’You know,’ said she, giving him a good-humoured hint, ’I don’t feel like doing this all day.’ ’Well, then, we’ll go down to the water now,’ said he, and he took the rod from her. They walked down through the swampy grass and heather to the banks of the stream; and here he got out his fly-book—a bulged and baggy volume much the worse for wear. And then it instantly occurred to her that this was something she could get for him—the most splendid fly-book and assortment of salmon flies to be procured in London—until it just as suddenly occurred to her that he would have little use for these in Glasgow. She saw him select a smallish black and gold and crimson-tipped object from that bulky volume; and a few minutes thereafter she was armed for the fray, and he was standing by watching. Now the Mudal, though an exceedingly ’dour’ salmon-river, is at least easy for a beginner to fish, for there is scarcely anywhere a bush along its level banks. And there were the pools—some of them deep and drumly enough in all conscience; and no doubt there were salmon in them, if only they could be seduced from their lair. For one thing, Ronald had taken her to a part of the stream where she could not, in any case, do much harm by her preliminary whippings of the water.