CHAPTER III. 



ANOTHER PART OF THE RIVER. 



Enter Two POACHERS. 



1st Poacher. Haud up your wand a bit, Watty; 

 ye're playin' the deil wi' us a'thegither. What gars 

 ye wark the flees in that fashion ? 



2d Poacher. Faith ! man, it's no sae easy ma- 

 nagin* them as ye think ; there's a muckle troot on 

 the near end o' the line. 



1st Poacher. Tak him in, then, an' dinna spoil 

 the lave o' the water; there's twa fathom to ye, and 

 be canny. Gie these bits o' par a yerk into your 

 creel, and fasten on a hantle sawmon flees ; there's 

 a gude chance o* a fish amang thae rocks. It was 

 just here we hookit the thirty punder last Martin- 

 mas. Ye'll mind hoo it bang up wi' its muckle 

 head to the yallow flee, and awa, when it fand itseP 

 grippit, to yon stane, and there it lay, like a clod, 



