14 



SALMON-LEAPING 



they can proceed at the rate of thirty miles an hour; and 

 being, as quaint old Fuller says, " both bow and arrow, 

 they will shoot themselves out of the water to an incred- 

 ible height," that is, to fourteen feet. The present writer 

 has never seen a salmon rise above six or seven, but his 

 opportunities have not been many. He can bear witness 

 to the enjoyment the fish seem to take in their expedition, 

 when they are sailing through a comparatively tranquil 

 reach ; they splash, and frolic, and tumble, like a group 



of happy children in a 

 summer pool. When 

 they reach a fall or an 

 embankment, they clear 

 it by a leap, as a hunter 

 takes fence, hedge, or 

 ditch. The manner in 

 which they do this is 

 very curious : they bend 

 themselves into the form 

 of a bow, suddenly relax 

 the body, and then, tak- 

 ing a sidelong curve 

 through the air, like a 

 boomerang, alight on the 

 other side of the obstacle. 

 If baffled in the first at- 

 tempt, they try again ; 

 and so again and again, 

 until successful. Their 

 perseverance is as great as that of Robert the Brace's 

 spider : we once watched a young salmon, at a point where 

 the stream, a Highland stream, was coming down in 



(502' 



WATERFALL. 



