Before breakfast the early-rising angler will have time to explore Killin, which is beautifully situated within the peninsula formed by the confluence of the rivers Dochart and Lochy. The great Dr. McCulloch, most charming of all writers on Scottish landscape, says: “Killin is the most extraordinary collection of extraordinary scenery in all Scotland; unlike everything else in the country and perhaps on earth, and a perfect picture gallery in itself, since you cannot move three yards without meeting a new landscape. A busy artist might here draw a month and not exhaust it. Fir-trees, rocks, torrents, mills, bridges, houses—these produce the great bulk of the middle landscape, under endless combinations; while the distances more constantly are found in the surrounding hills, in their varied woods, in the bright expanse of the lake and the minute ornaments of the distant valley, in the rocks and bold summit of Craig-Cailliach, and in the lofty vision of Ben Lawers, which towers like a huge giant in the clouds—monarch of the scene.” This picture we can endorse, having seen Killin in all seasons of the year, when the Dochart in spate was foaming and churning among the rocks and the tree-roots of the numerous wooded islands; where the bluebell and fox-glove bloomed bonnily on the banks of the Lochy in early summer, and again where the red glow on the upper mountain betokened that the grouse-hiding heather was in full bell. But the angler loves it best when Ben Lawers has on his nightcap of snow. No matter though a snow-shower sweeps like spin-drift before a squall and makes him shiver as he watches the rods at the stern, if he have the shelter of the bays and the “saumont” is in a taking mood.
But the “halesome parritch” is reeking on the breakfast table, and every angler, be he Scotchman or not, will be wise if he puts the contents of a “coggie” and some rich milk from a Highland cow within him. They will keep heart in him and cold without all day, besides “man,” as his boatman will tell him, “they mak’ gran’ bottoming for the whisky ane maun keep drinking.” Breakfast over, the boats are soon manned where they lie at the lochy a few minutes’ walk from the hotel door. This leads to a description of the system of fishing which is pursued on the lake.
Except the reserved water of the Marquis of Breadalbane, the proprietor, who keeps a favorite portion for himself and his guests, the rights belong to the hotel proprietors, whose houses are situated on the lake. Kenmore Hotel has four boats and about eight miles of water at the east end of the loch, and across its whole breadth. Killin Hotel has six boats, and its beat extends to about eight miles, also across the whole breadth. Bridge of Lochay Inn, with three boats, has the same water as the Killin Hotel. Ardenaig Inn has two boats, and Lawers Inn, at the foot of Ben Lawers, two boats. The regulations at these hotels are the same, each boat being allowed to carry only two rods at £5 per week, or 25 shillings a day; if two anglers are in one boat, at 30 shillings a day, all fish caught to be the property of the angler. Two boatmen are necessary, and these are paid 3s. 8d. per day, the angler allowing them luncheon only when he feels so disposed. This, no doubt, looks very costly, but when the sport obtained is considered, in reality it seems very cheap. Take the following score made by Mr. I. Watson Lyall, made through the favor of Lord Breadalbane a few years ago:
Feb. 5.—Opening day, after two o’clock P. M., 8 salmon, 28, 23, 23, 21, 20, 19, 18 and 16 lbs. | 168 | |
Feb. 6.—6 salmon, 32, 20, 20, 18, 19, 17 lbs. | 126 | |
Feb. 7.—4 salmon, 20, 19, 23 and 18 lbs. | 80 | |
Feb. 8.—Weather too stormy for fishing. | — | |
Feb. 9.—6 salmon, 32, 17, 22, 19, 21, 17 lbs. | 128 | |
Feb. 10.—Stopped at two o’clock, 2 salmon, 30 and 19 lbs. | 49 | |
Total for five days’ fishing, 26 salmon, weight | lbs. | 551 |
Not bad fishing that, and far from costly when salmon is selling in London at two shillings per pound.
“HE LOOPED THE LINE ONTO THE OTHER ROD.”
The fish, which rarely weigh under twenty pounds, fight strongly, and carry out as much as eighty yards of line at a single rush, so that they always give magnificent sport before being landed. For some reason or other which cannot be explained, they will not rise to the fly. Phantom minnows of the ordinary form are used, with small screw-propellers at the nose to make them spin, and the better they spin the more likely is the angler to be successful. On arrival at the fishing-ground, the rods, which as a rule are fourteen feet long, are fixed in little forked rests and so made to point sternward at an angle over the gunwale. Forty yards of line are let out to trail (some allow as many as sixty yards), and a small stone is placed upon a part of the line under each of the rods. When these stones are jerked off, the watchful angler knows that he is fast in a fish. There are, of course, certain favorite bits of water, and these the boatmen take the rods over with great care.
“WAS OBLIGED TO SIT DOWN WITH SUCH A STORM ON.”