NUMBER XXVIII 

 AGAINST THE STREAM 



THE river was in high flood, and the salmon were 

 pressing up it. They had been out to sea, 

 and were full of energy ; it was a sight to watch 

 them leaping high into the air over the first step of 

 the salmon ladder, dashing ahead with strong tail- 

 strokes, and rising rapidly to the top of the fall. 

 Their hunger was swallowed up in love, for fishes 

 love as fishes can. To put it in another way, they 

 were making for the spawning -ground, and they were 

 fasting. It was the fall of the year, and the day 

 was almost wintry, but we did not tire watching the 

 salmon at the fall. It was a sight to be remembered 

 for a lifetime. The lithe body, less silvery than 

 usual, shot out of the water ; then followed a plucky 

 rush amid the bubbles ; then in seven cases out of 

 ten the fish was swept back before it had cleared the 

 second rung of the ladder. It was as exciting as a 

 race. A big strong fellow cleared one barrier after 

 another, lost energy at the last, and was swept 

 back like a log, while another with less dash about 

 him cleared every one, and shot ahead in the swift 

 smooth water above the fall. It was rather pathetic 



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