"Oh, you wicked little wretch!" she cried, at a particularly vicious
flourish out of the water; but this was the kind of fish she liked; this
was a fish that fought fair--a gentlemanly fish, without the thought of
a sulk in him--a very Prince Rupert even among grilse; this was no
malevolent, underhand, deep-boring tugger. Indeed, these brilliant
dashes and runs and summersaults soon began to tell The gallant little
grilse was plainly getting the worst of it. He allowed himself to be
led; but, whenever she stepped back on the bank and tried to induce him
to come in, at the first appearance of shallow water he would instantly
sheer off again with all the strength that was left in him. Fortunately
he seemed inclined to head up-stream; and she humored him in that, for
there the water was deeper under the bank. Even then he fought
splendidly to the last. As soon as he got to recognize that an enemy was
waiting for him--an enemy armed with some white, shining thing that he
more than once warily slipped out of--he would make struggle after
struggle to keep away--until at last there was a sudden, swift, decisive
stroke of the steel clip, and Robert had his glittering prize safely
ashore.
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