"No, no; let's get him ashore."

"Without ta fush!" cried Tavish indignantly. "D'ye think ta laddie
would like to lose ta fush aifter a rin like tat?"

He shook his head and thrust his bared arm down into the water, as Max
sat shivering on the rock.

"Why, ta line's doon here aboot ta laddie's legs," cried Tavish, rising
up with the strong fine plait in his hand. "Noo, Scood, stan' awa.
She's richt noo, Maister Kenneth; so rin ashore again, and go below to
yon stane. She'll try to bring ta fush in for ye to gaff her there. Or
would ta Southron chentleman like to gaff her fush her nainsel?"

"No, no," said Max, with a shiver. "I want to get ashore."

"I wouldn't lose a fush like that for twa pun'!" cried Tavish again;
and, as Kenneth stepped down into the water, gaff in hand, waded ashore,
and ran downward among the rocks, dripping like an otter, Tavish slowly
waded to bank, drawing the line slowly and carefully, and passing it
through his hands.

"See him yet, Tav?" cried Kenneth from where he stood out in the stream.
"Sure he's on?"

"Ay, she can feel her. It's a gran' fush, Maister Kenneth, but ta whole
hundred yairds o' line was rin off ta reel. She wouldna lose ta fush
for twa pun'."

As he spoke he manipulated the line very cleverly, drawing it in foot by
foot, and then letting it go again as the fish made a rush, but only for
the line to be steadily drawn upon again, so as if possible to manoeuvre
the captive close to the rock where Kenneth stood, gaff hook in hand,
ready to strike.

"Oh, it's a gran' fush!" cried Scood excitedly, as he ceased from
freeing Max from the line, and looked on.

For the fish was not yet wearied out, and made a brave struggle for
freedom, but, in spite of its efforts and the chances in its favour, the
forester only having the line, and no springy rod with its playing
power, the end seemed to be drawing nigh. Again and again it was drawn
towards Kenneth, and again and again it dashed away, the man letting the
line run; but every time he had more line in hand, and the salmon's
tether grew more short.

"Hey, but she's well hookit!" cried Tavish; "and she wouldna lose that
fush for ten pun'."

There was another rush, and a great bar of silver flashed out into the
sunshine and fell with a splash upon a black stone half covered with
foam.

"Leuk at that, maister," cried Scood excitedly.

It was a momentary look, for the fish gave a flap with its tail and
glided o