ock; and then she
cautiously put out the rod and the short line she had previously
prepared. She threw the fly to the opposite side of the pool, let it
sink an inch or two, and then quietly jerked it across until it came in
the way of the slow-circling salmon. To her it was merely an amusement,
but to Lionel it was a breathless excitement, to watch one after another
of those big fish, in passing, come up to look at this beautiful,
gleaming, shrimp-like object and then sink down again and go on its
round. They would not come within two feet of this tempting lure. She
tried them in all parts of the pool, sinking the fly well into the
plunging fall, and letting it be carried right to the other side before
she dragged it across the clear open.

"Won't one of you take it?" she said. "It's as pretty a fly as ever was
dressed, though they do call it the Dirty Yellow."

But all of a sudden the circumstances were changed in a most startling
manner. A swift, half-seen creature came darting up from out of the
plunging torrent, shot into the clear water, snatched at the small
object that was floating there, and down went fly and rod until the top
was almost touching the surface. The reel had caught in her dress,
somehow. But in another second all that was altered--she had got the
reel free--she was up on her feet--the line was singing out--the rod
raised, with the pliant top yielding to every movement of the fish--and
Lionel, quite bewildered by the rapidity of the whole occurrence,
wondering what he could do to assist her. Miss Honnor, however, was
quite competent to look after herself.

"Who could have expected that?" she said, as the salmon went away down
into the deep pool, and deliberately sulked there. "I wasn't fishing, I
was only playing; and he very nearly broke me at the first plunge.
Really, it all happened so quickly that I could not see what size he
was; could you, Mr. Moore?"

"Not I!" he answered. "The creature came out of the rough water like a
flash of lightning--I only saw the splash his tail made as he went down
again. But what are you going to do, Miss Honnor? Shall I run down the
strath and tell old Robert to hurry back?"

"Not at all!--we'll manage him by ourselves," she replied, confidently.
"Here, you take him, and I'll gaff him for you."

"I will do nothing of the kind," said he, distinctly. "You have given
me too many of your fish. You have been far too generous all the way
through. No? I will gaff