from the excitement of it. Her teeth were close
set, excepting when she uttered sharp little exclamations of fear and
renewed hope. But always she met his every move, deftly, and was quick to
follow my words of advice. Then followed a period of sulking, when he
went down deep and refused to budge, with the tense line vibrating a
little with the push of the current. I began to meditate on the wisdom or
folly of throwing a stone in the water to make him move, but suddenly he
cut short my cogitations and shot away again, heading up-stream.

"Fight him just a bit harder, Miss Jelliffe," I advised. "Don't allow him
to get rested and try to put a little more strain on the rod; it can
stand it and I'm sure he's well hooked."

"But my arms are getting paralyzed," she complained, with a little tense
laugh. "They are beginning to feel as if they would never move again."

"I should be glad to take the rod," I said, "but afterwards you would
never forgive me. I know that you want to land that fish yourself."

Her little look of determination increased. She was flushed now. Under
the slightly increased effort she made the salmon began to yield, taking
short darts from side to side, which began to grow shorter.

"Walk down a little with him, to bring him into shallower water," I
advised, and took the gaff from Yves. Then I waded in until I was knee
deep and kept very still, but the fish took another run.

"Never mind," I cried, "keep on fighting even if your arms are ready to
drop. A steady pull on him. That's fine! Bring him again a little nearer.
That's the way! He is mighty tired now; just a bit nearer. Good enough!"

The iron of the gaff disappeared under water. Miss Jelliffe was giving
him the butt, and her lips quivered. Then I made a quick move and a
splashing mass of silver rose out of the stream with mighty struggling. I
hurried ashore with it and held it up.

The great contest was over. Miss Jelliffe put down the rod and her arms
sank down to her side, wearily, yet in another moment she knelt down upon
the mossy grass beside the beautiful salmon.

"Oh! Isn't it a beauty!" she cried. "Thank you ever so much! Wasn't it a
wonderful fight he made! I could never have managed it without your help.
You're a very good teacher, you know, and I can understand now why you
men just get crazy over salmon fishing. I'll be just as crazy as any one
from now on. How much does he weigh?"

I pulled out my spring scale and hooked up