The pools were full of gleaming curves of silver, each one belonging
to a separate salmon of gigantic size fresh run from the sea. The
foaming Black Water tumbled headlong over its rocks and down its
narrow channel. DONALD, the big keeper, stood industriously upon the
bank arranging flies. "I hef been told," he observed, "tat ta English
will be coming to Styornoway, and there will be no more Gaelic spoken.
But perhaps it iss not true, for they will tell many lies. I am a
teffle of a liar myself."

And lo! as we watched, the grey sky seemed to be split in two by an
invisible wedge, and a purple gleam of light shot--

"Stow that!" said the Voice, "I have allowed you to put in a patch of
Gaelic, but I really cannot let you do any more sun-pictures. Try and
think that it is a close time for landscapes, and don't let the light
shoot again for a bit."

"All right," I retorted, not without annoyance, "but you'll just
have to make up your mind to lose that salmon. It was a magnificent
forty-pounder, and, if it hadn't been for your ridiculous
interruption, we should have landed him splendidly in another six
pages."

"As you like," said the Voice.

CHAPTER IV.

And now our journey was drawing to a close. Out of the solemn hush
of the purple mountains we had passed slowly southwards back to the