e much more to his satisfaction. Often he thought of his friend
Dudley the artist, when he observed the effect produced by the strong red
glare on the romantic banks under which the boat glided. Now the light
diminished to a distant star that seemed to twinkle on the waters, like
those which, according to the legends of the country, the water-kelpy
sends for the purpose of indicating the watery grave of his victims. Then
it advanced nearer, brightening and enlarging as it again approached,
till the broad flickering flame rendered bank and rock and tree visible
as it passed, tingeing them with its own red glare of dusky light, and
resigning them gradually to darkness, or to pale moonlight, as it
receded. By this light also were seen the figures in the boat, now
holding high their weapons, now stooping to strike, now standing upright,
bronzed by the same red glare into a colour which might have befitted the
regions of Pandemonium.

Having amused himself for some time with these effects of light and
shadow, Brown strolled homewards towards the farm-house, gazing in his
way at the persons engaged in the sport, two or three of whom are
generally kept together, one holding the torch, the others with their
spears, ready to avail themselves of the light it affords to strike their
prey. As he observed one man struggling with a very weighty salmon which
he had speared, but was unable completely to raise from the water, Brown
advanced close to the bank to see the issue of his exertions. The man who
held the torch in this instance was the huntsman, whose sulky demeanour
Brown had already noticed with surprise. 'Come here, sir! come here, sir!
look at this ane! He turns up a side like a sow.' Such was the cry from
the assistants when some of them observed Brown advancing.

'Ground the waster weel, man! ground the waster weel! Haud him down! Ye
haena the pith o' a cat!' were the cries of advice, encouragement, and
expostulation from those who were on the bank to the sportsman engaged
with the salmon, who stood up to his middle in water, jingling among
broken ice, struggling against the force of the fish and the strength of
the current, and dubious in what manner he should attempt to secure his
booty. As Brown came to the edge of the bank, he called out--'Hold up
your torch, friend huntsman!' for he had already distinguished his dusky
features by the strong light cast upon them by the blaze. But the fellow
no sooner heard his voice, a