A FEATHERED SCAVENGER. 45 



and the misfortune of last week be repeated. 

 Once there, however, I felt almost sure of ultimate 

 success ; and I saw A who, by the way, is a 

 capital swimmer plunging in from the opposite 

 shore, having got rid of his Macintosh stockings, 

 and coming to my assistance, and by the time he 

 was over I had run down stream and wound up at 

 least three-fourths of a hundred yards of line. 

 From this spot, almost as far as the sea, the river 

 pursues her tortuous course, more intricately than 

 ever, in a succession of rapids and small pools. 

 Here and there, near the upper part of the former, 

 it was easy to cross by wading, and once more 

 passing over to a long stretch of shingle, at the 

 other side, I managed to lead my fish, now nearly 

 tired out, down stream for a considerable distance, 

 without meeting any formidable obstacle. His 

 dying struggles during the latter part of the run 

 had evidently attracted the attention of a great 

 black-backed gull, who, accompanied by several 

 immature birds of the same species, continued to 

 soar over our heads, every now and then darting 

 down close to the salmon as he turned over help- 

 lessly, and his bright silvery sides gleamed through 

 the water ; doubtless watching, with the true sca- 

 venger instinct, for the moment of dissolution, 

 though apparently unconscious of the cause of his 



