Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-10-04
THE KELPIE'S POOL.

LILLE I'LL > " v
Furgus Grahame dashed the water--too
brown as yet from the spring rains for the
trout to take freely. He felt the sense of his
own freedom somewhat irksome. Perhaps
his wood of Carve had East it's shadow on
his spirits. On the few occasions whom he
had visited his ancestral towers a chill had
seemed to fall on him as he entered the
dark pine avenue that led to the door of
Carve. Whether it came from his fathers
presence or from the trees he could never
tell. He was beginning to know that the
penalty of freedom is loneliness.
A thought suddenly came to him, and
he reelod up his line and moved quickly
down stream. When he came forth into
the open, he was seen to be q goodly
youth. He looked younger than his years,
which were 26. The movement of his
limbs revealed a sinewy strength whereof
his slight, tall figure when at rest scarce
gave promise. The, face was dark and
pleasant looking, but it was hardly that of
a man who might be crossed with i'm
punity. The hazel eyes could ON occasion
give out a flash of resolution and temper,
and the lips under the brown mustachs
could harden into sour, stern lines.
His long strides quickly brought him to
the spot near the neck of the valley where
the Black wood runs down to the brink of
the river and throws a skirmishing party
Of gnarled and veteran trees across to tho
farther bank. The water, instead OF roar
Ing and tumbling increasingly over the
rocks In its narrow bed, moves by leaps,
with rests between. Below the projecting
lodges and the writhing fir roots the turbid
stream dashes over NOISY powders into
pot holes of unfathomed depth, where the
froth spins dizzily all day long. There the
trout love to lie, and the most noted of
the pools on the Garryvalt was that in
which the old bull trout had taken up
his quarters. 1t was said that he had been
known for u generation to haunt this spot.
Marvellous tales were told of tho size and
the cunning of this specimen of tho Saline
ferox. Every lure had been employed to
capture him, but fly and bait, and even
hand net and ''leister, y had all been tried
in vain. From his favorite shelter under
a great stone this lcyiathan of the burn
seemed to laugh at the attempts to put a
hook into his jaw and draw him forth. At
length the country people had come to re-
gard him and his pool with a feeling of
fear and awe. He had inherited in their
eye some of the attributes of his predeces-
sor, the w~aterkelpie. 1t was impossible to
take him. 1t was dangerous to try.
Unfortunate youth has resolved to give
up his day to making spoil, Of the ancient
bull trout. He was free to choose, among
other things, the bank of the river whence
he should fish. Looking over the family
papers last night, he had noticed that the
march Of his lands with the neighboring
estate of the Stewards of Drumbane fol-
lowed not the stream, but the skirt of tho
wood. 1t crossed the water and inclosed
both sides Of Kelpie's pool. Fergus had
some vague memory that the spot had been
the scene or the occasion, or both, of the
long feud that had ragged between the
Grahames Of Carve and the Stewards Of
Drumbane, but the tale eluded him when
he sought to recall it. In his wading boots
and with the aid Of his rod he crossed tho
slippery stones to the other bank, and, talk
ing up his position on a platform Of rock
raised a dozen feet above the surface Of the
black and troubled water, began dexter
ously whipping the Kelpie's pool.
The great trout, 1t seemed, was not at
home, or he sulked in his watery. cave,
scornfully regardless of the red back fly
that so persistently lit and skinned on
the water over his nose. At least he made
no sign. Meanwhile time passed, and the
sun rose higher. The light forced its way
everywhere save to the shadowy side of tho
pool. 10 the ear of the fisher the hoarse,
Llonotonous chant of the falling waters
seemed to be broken now and again by Il
low chuckle Of laughter, as of some elflsh
thing that Knocked his efforts. Still, he
had no intention of abandoning his quest,
and he tried a new lure. Hardly had he
made a fresh cast when he became aware
Of two figures watching him from the cliff
behind. One was a big man, with a beard
like q wisp Of dry heather, clad in rough
Harris tweeds-unmistakably q gillie or
gamekeeper. He carried a fishing rod and
basket and was evidently in attendance on
the slim and upright little lady at his side.
Though the water was his, in the legal
sense and in the sporting, Fergus first
impulse would have been to cede the place
to the lady and to move elsewhere. But
the giant trout gave him no choice. Our
fathers believe that there Is a magic in
ciroling passes and in woven PAGES, espe-
cially when made over running water, that
Is strong enough to c~onjure the fish from
the flood n even the stars from the sky,
Perhaps the rod and the feet, helped by
the will Of the fisher, had unconsciously
wrought this spell Of power and drawn
the laggard from his lair. Be this as it
may, there were in the pool a sudden rush
and q mighty splash, and the line ran out
with a scream.
tits either the trout or the devil"
muttered the angler as he bent all his
thought and skill to playing his unruly
victim and keeping him clear Of the rocks.
Had his mind been less engrossed in his
task he might almost have heard what
was being spoken behind him.
Somebody has got before us, Sandy, ~
said the heiress Of DrumbaI o in u vexed
voice. She, too, had issued forth that
morning bent ON making u prey Of the
great trout. "Who is he?"
"Nae doot ane O. thae cockney veesitors
frae the Clashmore hotel, Miss Elsie, "
Sandy responded in tones Of pronounced
disgust. "Do they think WI their bits O
permits they hae the wyle O. the hail wa
teri Does he ken he's trespassinp
With Sandy Tosh to '~strespass'' was
more heinous than to commit the seven
deadly sins.
"Hc has spoiled our day. He has taken
a great liberty, /" spoke Sandy's mistress,
10nkiuO down with eporLl;nn 80 "a A.,