Natural History & Sport in Moray

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D. Douglas, 1882 - Hunting - 323 pages
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Page 23 - ... into a dark-coloured or black vessel, and although on first being placed there the white-coloured fish shows most conspicuously on the black ground, in a quarter of an hour it becomes as dark coloured as the bottom of the jar, and consequently difficult to be seen.
Page xx - Co.'s Entire' (this being the usual colour of our summer floods). To stop him was impossible; I held on above the rapid till I thought my good Forrest rod would have gone at the hand, and certainly the fine single gut I had on earlier would have parted with half the strain.
Page 203 - The fine air, the freedom of the scenery, and all the other agremens accompanying this amusement, must always make it the most fascinating kind of sport in the way of shooting which the British Isles, or, indeed, almost any country can afford. The bird, too, in beauty and game-like appearance is not to be equalled. In fact, as long as grouse and heather exist, and the nature of man is imbued with the same love for sport and manly exercise as it now is, grouse-shooting will be one of our favourite...
Page xx - ... turning again by gentle persuasion ; these tactics he continued for nearly an hour, my man waiting for him on the gravel below, and out of my sight. By this time the effects of the last night's rain became fully apparent ; the still dark pool below my feet had turned into a seething pot, without a quiet corner for the fish to rest in, and the water had risen nearly twenty-four inches above its size when I hooked him. The upshot was, he shot down the narrows, and went rolling heels over head down...
Page xxi - I was sure of him, and reeling steadily up the eighty yards which were out, I followed down to the big round pool below, where, to my surprise, I became aware that he was still on. He made but a feeble resistance, and after a fight of two hours and forty minutes, we got the clip into as gallant a fish as ever left the sea — weight 19^ Ibs. and new run. The last hour and a half was in a roaring white flood. The fly wan, as you may imagine, well
Page xxi - I followed, crawling and leaping along some impossible-looking country, such as I would not have faced in cold blood. By this time he had nearly reached the Ess or fall, and all seemed lost. I do not think he really intended going over ; for when he felt himself within the influence of the strong smooth water, he tried his best to return, but in vain ; over he went like a shot, and long ere I could get round some high rocks and down to the lower part of the fall, I had...
Page xvi - Mephistopheles expression, began travelling across and across the drills, till suddenly he struck the scent, and then with a series of curious jumps on all fours, and pauses between, to listen for the moving of the bird, he made quick work with bird No. 1, and so with bird No. 2. I never saw so perfect a dog for retrieving, but he was not handsome. After this introduction St. John and I became frequent companions.
Page 129 - ... she having left the nest on our approach, and also that I might have a chance of shooting the old osprey herself in case she came within shot. I must say that I would rather she had escaped this fate; but as her skin was wanted, I agreed to try to kill her. For some time after the departure of my companions she flew round and round at a great height, occasionally drifting away with the high wind, and then returning to the loch. She passed two or three times, not very far from me, before I shot...
Page 129 - ... keeping possession of the fish. He probably went to look for the female at some known and frequented haunt, as he flew rapidly off in a direct line. He soon, however, came over the lake again, and continued his flight to and fro, and his loud cries for above an hour, still keeping the fish ready for his mate. I at length heard the voices of my friends, and we soon launched the boat. The osprey became much agitated as we neared the rock where the nest was, and dropped the fish he held into the...
Page xx - ... the still, dark pool below my feet had turned into a seething pot, without a quiet corner for the fish to rest in, and the water had risen nearly twenty-four inches above its size when I hooked him. The upshot was, he shot down the narrows, and went rolling heels over head down the foaming " Meux and Co.'s Entire " (this being the usual colour of our summer floods).

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