wholly extinct, or so rare as to be found only at the tables of
the wealthy. James Gillies, in his evidence, states that his
brother had in one night killed in the Tweed four hundred Salmon
at one landing-place in close time; and all the reports are full
of statements showing how unceasing and universal is the
persecution the Salmon undergo, not only when in season, but at
all times, and most of all when every one should do his utmost to
preserve them--I mean when they are spawning. In this neighbourhood
the properties generally are so much divided, and so few good fish
are allowed to ascend the river, that no one has any interest in
protecting them in close time, and the consequence is, as might be
expected, that all sorts of contrivances for taking them are
resorted to: they are speared and netted in the streams by day and
night; they are caught with the fly, they are taken with switch
hooks (large hooks fixed to the ends of staves), or with a triple
hook fixed to the end of a running line and a salmon rod; if the
river becomes low, parties of idle fellows go up each side of it
in search of them, and by stoning the deeps, or dragging a horse's
skull, or large bone of any kind through them, they compel the
fish to _side_, and there they fall an easy prey, in most cases
where the pool is of small extent. In a river so small as the
Ribble, it will be readily believed that not many fish can deposit
their spawn in safety, when practices of this kind are followed
almost openly, and when no one feels a sufficient interest in the
matter to put a stop to them. A single party of poachers killed
four hundred Salmon in one spawning season near the source of the
river; the roe of which, when potted, they sold for L20. Need we
be surprised, then, if the breed decreases? The only wonder is that
they have not been exterminated long ago.