And very soon he found that he had
got hold of a very lively something; for the cantrips which this small
salmon played were most extraordinary. For a second or two he seemed
inclined to go right down the stony channel (which would have instantly
settled the matter, as there was no possible means of following him),
but the next moment he had dashed right up through the middle of the
pool, tearing the water as he went, and frightening the luckless
fisherman half out of his wits with this dangerously slackening line.
That, however, was soon righted; and now the salmon lay in an eddy just
below the fall. Would he attempt to breast that bulk of water in a mad
effort to be free of this hateful thing that had got hold of him?--then
good-bye to him forever! But no--that was not his fancy; he suddenly
sprang into the air--and again sprang--and then savagely beat the
surface with body and tail; after which fearsome performance he swerved
round and came right in under the rock on which Lionel was standing,
where they could see him lying perfectly still in the deep, clear water.
He neither tugged nor bored; that olive-green thing (for so he appeared
in these depths) lay perfectly motionless--no doubt planning further
devilment and only waiting to recover his strength.
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