But Nic felt as if his heart was on fire. The pain of the blows
thrilled him, and, darting forward with clenched fists, he struck the
poacher full in the mouth before the pole could swing round.

There was the faint whisper of a hoarse yell as the man fell back; Nic
saw his hands clutching in the air, then he went backward into the
boiling water, while the end of the pole was seen to rise above the
surface for a moment or two, and then glide towards the bottom of the
fall and disappear.

For the current, as it swung round the pool, set towards the falling
water on the surface, and rushed outward far below.

Nic's rage died out more quickly than it had risen, and he craned
forward, white as ashes now, watching for the rising of his adversary
out somewhere towards the other side; while, as if in triumphant mockery
or delight at the danger having been removed, another huge salmon leaped
up the fall.

CHAPTER THREE.

A GAME OF TIT FOR TAT.

"I'd have pushed him in."

Captain Revel's threat flashed through his son's brain as the young man
stood staring wildly over the agitated waters of the pool, every moment
fancying that he saw some portion of the man's body rise to the surface;
but only for it to prove a patch of the creamy froth churned up by the
flood.

It was plain enough: the man had been sucked in under the falls, and the
force of the falling water was keeping him down. He must have been
beneath the surface for a full minute now--so it seemed to Nic; and, as
he grew more hopeless moment by moment of seeing him rise, the young
man's blood seemed to chill with horror at the thought that he had in
his rage destroyed another's life.

Only a short time back the shut-in pool had been a scene of beauty; now
it was like a black hollow of misery and despair, as the water dashed
down and then swirled and eddied in the hideous whirlpool.

Then it was light again, and a wild feeling of exultation shot through
Nic's breast, for he suddenly caught sight of the man's inert body
approaching him, after gliding right round the basin. It was quite
fifty feet away, and seemed for a few moments as if about to be swept
out of the hollow and down the gully; but the swirl was too strong, and
it continued gliding round the pool, each moment coming nearer.

There was no time for hesitation. Nic knew the danger and the
impossibility of keeping afloat in foaming water like that before him,
churned up as it was with air; bu