We went together accordingly to Galway, up Lough
Corrib to Cong and Lough Mask; by the romantic lakes and
mountains of Connemara to Clifden and Letterfrack, and through
the lovely pass of Kylemoor to Leenane; along the fiord of
Killury; then on, by Westport and Ballina to Sligo. Letters were
posted daily by my young friend; and every day we went forwards
in safety.
But how lonely was the country! We did not meet a single
American tourist during the whole course of our visit, and the
Americans are the most travelling people in the world. Although
the railway companies have given every facility for visiting
Connemara and the scenery of the West of Ireland, we only met one
single English tourist, accompanied by his daughter. The
Bianconi long car between Clifden and Westport had been taken off
for want of support. The only persons who seemed to have no fear
of Irish agrarianism were the English anglers, who are ready to
brave all dangers, imaginary or supposed, provided they can only
kill a big salmon! And all the rivers flowing westward into the
Atlantic are full of fine fish. While at Galway, we looked down
into the river Corrib from the Upper Bridge, and beheld it
literally black with the backs of salmon! They were waiting for
a flood to enable them to ascend the ladder into Lough Corrib.
While there, 1900 salmon were taken in one day by nets in the
bay.
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