the opposite bank.  Purdie, seeing this, with great presence of mind, took up some stones from the channel, and through them one by one between the fish and the said opposite bank.  This naturally brought Master Salmo somewhat nearer, but still, for a few moments, we had a doubtful struggle for it.  At length, by lowering the head of the rod, and thus not having so much of the ponderous weight of the fish to encounter, I towed him a little sideways; and so, advancing towards me with propitious fin, he shot through the arch nearest me.

“Deeply immersed, I dashed after him as best I might; and arriving on the other side of the bridge, I floundered out upon dry land, and continued the chase.  The salmon, ’right orgillous and presumptive,’ still kept the strength of the stream, and abating nothing of its vigour, went swiftly down the whirls; then through the Boat shiel, and over the shallows, till he came to the throat of the Elm Wheel, down which he darted amain.  Owing to the bad ground, the pace here became exceedingly distressing.  I contrived to keep company with my fish, still doubtful of the result, till I came to the bottom of the long cast in question, when he still showed fight, and sought the shallow below.  Unhappily the alders prevented my following by land, and I was compelled to take water again, which slackened my speed.  But the stream soon expanding, and the current diminishing, my fish likewise travelled more slowly; so I gave a few sobs and recovered my wind a little, gathered up my line, and tried to bring him to terms.  But he derided my efforts, and dashed off for another burst, triumphant.  Not far below lay the rapids of the Slaughterford:  he would soon gain them at the pace he was going:  that was certain—­see, he is there already!  But I back out again upon dry land, nothing loth, and have a fair race with him.  Sore work it is.  I am a pretty fair runner, as has often been testified; but his velocity is surprising.  On, on, still he goes, ploughing up the water like a steamer.  ’Away with you, Charlie! quick, quick, man—­quick for your life!  Loosen the boat at the Cauld Pool, where we shall soon be,’ and so indeed we were, when I jumped into the said craft, still having good hold of my fish.

“The Tweed is here broad and deep, and the salmon at length had become somewhat exhausted; he still kept in the strength of the stream, however, with his nose seawards, and hung, heavily.  At last he comes near the surface of the water.  See how he shakes his tail and digs downwards, seeking the deep profound that he will never gain.  His motions become more short and feeble:  he is evidently doomed, and his race wellnigh finished.  Drawn into the bare water, and not approving of the extended cleek, he makes another swift rush, and repeats this effort each time that he is towed to the shallows.  At length he is cleeked in earnest, and hauled to shore; he proves one of the grey-skull newly run, and