'll frighten the fish," cried Paul, with feigned
anxiety.

"You'll tumble in again, if you don't mind," said his cautious father.

But Olly heard not. The whole of his little soul was centred on the
oily pool into which he had just cast the bunch of worms. Another
moment, and the stout rod was almost wrenched from his grasp.

"Have a care! Hold on! Stand fast!" saluted him in various keys, from
the bank.

"A cod! or a whale!" was the response from the rock.

"More likely a salmon," remarked Hendrick, in an undertone, while a
sober smile lit up his features.

At the moment a magnificent salmon, not less than twenty pounds weight,
leapt like a bar of silver from the flood, and fell back, with a mighty
splash.

The leap caused a momentary and sudden removal of the strain on the rod.
Oliver staggered, slipped, and fell with a yell that told of anxiety
more than alarm; but he got up smartly, still holding on by both hands.

In fishing with the tapering rods and rattling reels of modern days,
fishers never become fully aware of the strength of salmon, unless,
indeed, a hitch in their line occurs, and everything snaps! It was
otherwise about the beginning of the sixteenth century. It is otherwise
still with primitive fishers everywhere. Oliver's line could not run;
his rod was rigid, save at the point. The result was that it was all he
could do to stand and hold on to his captive. The rod, bent down into
the water, sprang up to the perpendicular, flew hither and thither,
jerked and quivered, causing the poor boy to jerk and quiver in
irresistible sympathy. At last a mighty rush of the fish drew the
fisher headlong into the flood.

"He'll be drowned or killed on the boulders below," gasped his father,
running wildly down the bank of the river.

"Don't fear," said Hendrick, as he ran beside him. "There is a shallow
just above the boulders. We will stop him there."

Paul Burns was already abreast of the shallow in question, and Oliver
was stranded on it, but a deep rapid stream ran between it and the bank,
so that Paul hesitated and looked eagerly about for the best spot to
cross.

"Follow me," cried Hendrick, "I know the ford."

He led his comrade swiftly to a point where the river widened and became
shallow, enabling them to wade to the tail of the bank at the top of
which Oliver stood engaged in a double struggle--with the water that
hissed and leaped around him, and the fish that still surged wildl