184 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



to terms. But he derided my efforts, and dashed 

 off for another burst, triumphant. Not far below 

 lay the rapids of the Saughterford : he would 

 soon gain them at the pace he was going, that was 

 certain ; — see, he is there already ! But I back 

 out again on 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 on 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, how- 

 ever, 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 well nigh 

 finished. Drawn into the bare water, and not 

 approving of the extended cleik, he makes another 

 swift rush, and repeats this effort each time that 

 he is towed to the shallows. At length he is 

 cleiked in earnest, and hauled to shore : he proves 

 one of the grey scull, newly run, and weighs some- 

 what above twenty pounds. The hook is not in 

 his mouth, but in the outside of it ; in which case 

 a fish being able to respire freely, always shows 



