32

NATURAL HISTORY OF SALMON.

ascend towards their favourite spawning beds

until the winter.

The second cause employed to drive them from the salt water is a parasitic insect, called the lernæa salmonea, which adheres to their scales, and appears to cause an intolerable irritation. This species of louse dies soon after the salmon have been two or three days in fresh water, of which they seem to have an instinctive foreknowledge, and express a delight at being about to get rid of their tormentors, by the most joyous bounds and leaps, when first they feel the refreshing stream. While in the sea they grow very fast, but are believed not to feed at all in fresh water, and appear not to increase in weight there.

About September they become dark in their colour, thick in their skin, and flaccid in their flesh, soon after which they spawn. The season of their thus losing their condition, however, varies much in different rivers. instance, in Caithness and Sutherland the fish

For

NATURAL HISTORY OF SALMON.

3333

are quite black by the beginning of August; whereas, in the Tweed they continue in season until past the middle of September. Upon recovering from this state, so evidently intended to guard them against molestation during the necessary process of spawning, they take advantage of the spring floods to return to the ocean, and are almost immediately followed by the young fry, at this time no bigger than sprats, but which, in two or three months' time, return to the same rivers, weighing from three to seven pounds.

The history of the salmo trutta, or sea-trout, is precisely similar, only they seldom reach more than seven pounds in weight, and in many rivers are never caught of half that size. They also usually enter streams, in which there is much less water than is sufficient to induce salmon to run up, and at once rush towards the head of the river, or lake, much higher than the salmo salar. Wherever they are found, they afford the best possible sport to

34

JAMES DOHERTY.

the angler, being very bold in rising at the fly, and remarkably strong and lively on the hook.

But to return from this long digression. There are few or no white trout in the Lakes of Killarney, but great quantities of brown trout, generally small, though occasionally of good size. There are also, fortunately, no pike.

Upon asking for the best fisherman, I was universally referred to one James Doherty; and, finding that he had a convenient small boat of his own, I engaged it and its master, most days during my stay, in preference to one of Lord Kenmare's boats. I had every reason to be satisfied with him and his crew. They were invariably civil, ready and anxious to do any thing and every thing that I wished; and, what is no slight recommendation at Killarney, I had not to complain of a single instance of drunkenness.

Doherty is an extremely good fisherman, and a sensible, intelligent man. He is per

fectly acquainted with his lake, which is of the

PECULIARITIES OF THE LAKE.

35

utmost consequence; as without his knowledge one might fish the whole day without once casting the fly in any spot where a salmon ever lies. It is only in certain places where the depth of the water is from five to twelve feet that the angler has the least chance of rising a fish. These spots are often over isolated rocks, in the very middle of the Lake, which could never be guessed by one unacquainted with the place, but which Doherty knows to an inch by certain landmarks. These are what he calls courses, and are the only parts of the Lake that there is the slightest use in trying.

The summer had been so uncommonly dry that the water was lower than had been remembered for many years, and the salmon were consequently driven off some of their usual courses. This was much against our sport. I have had ten or twelve rise at my fly, but never succeeded in killing more than two in any one day, although it was seldom I did not

take at least a single fish. They were small, the largest that I killed weighing only seven pounds and a quarter; but we certainly saw some much larger. Having been long in the fresh water, they had all a dark, reddish appearance, and their flesh was softer and less flavoured than of those fresh from the sea. Many of them, however, played with great strength and vigour, and the whirlpool they made in the water, when dashing at the fly, was very fine-enough to cause the heart of the young tyro to jump to his mouth.

Doherty used invariably plain flies, of a smallish size, with dark turkey wings, and brown olive bodies, ribbed with narrow gold twist. I in general preferred my own more gaudy Limerick flies; and it was difficult to

say

which on the whole were the most successful; sometimes his proving the most killing, and, at others, mine. I am, however, perfectly convinced that flies somewhat handsomer than his, and with a richer mixed wing, but not so