im, as
he darted along with the current. Intent upon carrying his fight
through to a finish, he gave only a passing glance to what he thought
was their friendly gesture of encouragement, took his right hand from
the reel for a second to wave a greeting, and passed on, with
determination written in every line of his chin, following the fish
toward the sea.

Through the clear shallows of _La Pinette_, and the rapids below;
through the curling depths of _Pool a Pierre_, and the rapids below;
through the long, curving reach of _L'Hirondelle_, and the mad rapids
below; so the battle went, and it was fight, fight, fight, and never
the word "give up!" At last they came to the head of tide-water and the
lake-like pool beside the old quay. Here the methods of the fish
changed. There was no more leaping in the air; no more violent jigging;
no more swift rushing up or down stream; but instead, there was just an
obstinate adherence to the deepest water in the pool, a slow and steady
circling round and round in some invisible eddy below the surface. From
this he could only be moved by pressure. Now was the time to test the
strength of the rod and line. The fish was lifted a few feet by main
force, and the line reeled in while the rod was lowered again. Then
there was another lift, and another reeling in; and so the process was
repeated until he was brought close to the shore in comparatively
shallow water. Even yet he did not turn over on his back, or show the
white fin; but it was evident that he was through fighting.

Chichester and P'tit Louis stepped out on the shore, old Louis holding
the canoe. P'tit Louis made his way carefully to a point of rock, with
the wide-mouthed, long-handled net, and dipped it quietly down into the
water, two or three feet deep. The fish was guided gently in toward the
shore, and allowed to drop back with the smooth current until the net
was around him. Then it was swiftly lifted; there was the gleam of an
immense mass of silver in its meshes, an instant of furious struggle,
the quick stroke of a short, heavy _baton_; and the great salmon was
landed and despatched.

[Illustration: There was the gleam of an immense mass of silver in its
meshes.]

The hook was well set in the outside of his jaw, just underneath his
chin; no wonder he played so long, with his mouth shut! Bring the
spring-balance and test his weight. Forty-eight pounds, full measure,
the record salmon of the river--a deep thickset fi