THE VICTORY. 9 



I 



which every moment threatened the rupture of my 

 tackle. His varied evolutions, dives, and flights 

 through the air, as they thoroughly baffled my skill in 

 dealing with them at the time, so they now completely 

 beggar description. Gradually, however, he began to 

 put out signals of distress; his evolutions became more 

 confined, his struggles less severe; and at length, to 

 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 desperate 

 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 



