" An ape and a lion lie side by side in the heart of a man."--PERSIAN PROVERB
Spring-fishing in the North is a cold game for a man whose blood has become thin in gentler climates.All afternoon I had failed to stir a fish, and the wan streams of the Laver, swirling between bare grey banks, were as icy to the eye as the sharp gusts of hail from the north-east were to the fingers.I cast mechanically till I grew weary, and then with an empty creel and a villainous temper set myself to trudge the two miles of bent to the inn.Some distant ridges of hill stood out snow-clad against the dun sky, and half in anger, half in dismal satisfaction, Itold myself that fishing to-morrow would be as barren as to-day.
At the inn door a tall man was stamping his feet and watching a servant lifting rodcases from a dog-cart.Hooded and wrapped though he was, my friend Thirlstone was an unmistakable figure in any landscape.The long, haggard, brown face, with the skin drawn tightly over the cheek-bones, the keen blue eyes finely wrinkled round the corners with staring at many suns, the scar which gave his mouth a humorous droop to the right, made up a whole which was not easily forgotten.I had last seen him on the quay at Funchal bargaining with some rascally boatman to take him after mythical wild goats in Las Desertas.Before that we had met at an embassy ball in Vienna, and still earlier at a hill-station in Persia to which I had been sent post-haste by an anxious and embarrassed Government.Also I had been at school with him, in those far-away days when we rode nine stone and dreamed of cricket averages.He was a soldier of note, who had taken part in two little wars and one big one; had himself conducted a political mission through a hard country with some success, and was habitually chosen by his superiors to keep his eyes open as a foreign attache in our neighbours' wars.But his fame as a hunter had gone abroad into places where even the name of the British army is unknown.He was the hungriest shikari Ihave ever seen, and I have seen many.If you are wise you will go forthwith to some library and procure a little book entitled "Three Hunting Expeditions," by A.W.T.It is a modest work, and the style is that of a leading article, but all the lore and passion of the Red Gods are in its pages.
The sitting-room at the inn is a place of comfort, and while Thirlstone warmed his long back at the fire I sank contentedly into one of the well-rubbed leather arm-chairs.The company of a friend made the weather and scarcity of salmon less the intolerable grievance they had seemed an hour ago than a joke to be laughed at.The landlord came in with whisky, and banked up the peats till they glowed beneath a pall of blue smoke.
"I hope to goodness we are alone," said Thirlstone, and he turned to the retreating landlord and asked the question.
"There's naebody bidin' the nicht forbye yoursels," he said, "but the morn there's a gentleman comin'.I got a letter frae him the day.Maister Wiston, they ca him.Maybe ye ken him?"I started at the name, which I knew very well.Thirlstone, who knew it better, stopped warming himself and walked to the window, where he stood pulling his moustache and staring at the snow.
When the man had left the room, he turned to me with the face of one whose mind is made up on a course but uncertain of the best method.
"Do you know this sort of weather looks infernally unpromising?
I've half a mind to chuck it and go back to town."I gave him no encouragement, finding amusement in his difficulties."Oh, it's not so bad," I said, "and it won't last.To-morrow we may have the day of our lives."He was silent for a little, staring at the fire."Anyhow," he said at last, "we were fools to be so far up the valley.Why shouldn't we go down to the Forest Lodge? They'll take us in, and we should be deucedly comfortable, and the water's better.""There's not a pool on the river to touch the stretch here," Isaid."I know, for I've fished every inch of it."He had no reply to this, so he lit a pipe and held his peace for a time.Then, with some embarrassment but the air of having made a discovery, he announced that his conscience was troubling him about his work, and he thought he ought to get back to it at once."There are several things I have forgotten to see to, and they're rather important.I feel a beast behaving like this, but you won't mind, will you?""My dear Thirlstone," I said, "what is the good of hedging?
Why can't you say you won't meet Wiston!"His face cleared."Well, that's the fact--I won't.It would be too infernally unpleasant.You see, I was once by way of being his friend, and he was in my regiment.I couldn't do it."The landlord came in at the moment with a basket of peats."How long is Capt.--Mr.Wiston staying here?" I asked.
"He's no bidin' ony time.He's just comin' here in the middle o' the day for his denner, and then drivin' up the water to Altbreac.He has the fishin' there."Thirlstone's face showed profound relief."Thank God!" I heard him mutter under his breath, and when the landlord had gone he fell to talking of salmon with enthusiasm."We must make a big day of it to-morrow, dark to dark, you know.Thank Heaven, our beat's down-stream, too."And thereafter he made frequent excursions to the door, and bulletins on the weather were issued regularly.
