THE VICTORY. 21 



my inexpressible delight, he suffered himself to be 

 drawn slowly alongside, and Donald, cautiously getting 

 the landing-net beneath him, lifted him ashore and 

 laid him at my feet, declaring that he did not weigh an 

 ounce under " sexteen punds." 



My fish at length secure, I found how very precarious 

 had been my hold upon him. One of the hooks of my 

 fly had broken out of his flesh, and the other was re- 

 tained by a mere thread, so very slender that it seemed 

 a perfect marvel that some of his last short but desper- 

 ate struggles had not released him. Had his strength 

 held out but a little longer, he must have escaped. 

 However, all chance for him was now gone ; there he 

 lay conquered and gasping; and Donald, taking up a 

 stone, by one knock on the forehead for ever terminated 

 his existence. 



Thus reader, was my patience rewarded, and my first 

 salmon killed. I was now an initiated brother of the 

 gentle craft ; and, though you may not be able to enter 

 into the feelings of that moment, I can assure you the 

 sense of exultation was very great. A salmon, in his 

 own element, is indeed no despicable antagonist ; for, 

 from his activity, he may baffle the skill of the most 

 expert, while his strength is sufficient to weary the 

 stoutest arm ; and it is only by patience and care that 

 victory can be won. 



But I must not suffer myself to dwell too long upon 

 my own emotions, while Walter is still struggling with 

 his fish. Now that there could be no longer any doubt 

 that my own fish was hors de combat, we set off at once 

 to his assistance, and found him also " wi' a graund 

 fesh," as Donald said, at the end of his line, still 

 resisting bravely, and judging from appearances, in- 

 tending to resist for some time to come. My own fight 

 had lasted twenty minutes; but this promised appa- 



