Sam fell with a great splash upon his face, but in
falling, jammed whatever it was against the stone. "Let go, Twister,"
shouted I, "'tis an otter, he will nip a finger off you."--"Whisht,"
sputtered he, as he slid his hand under the water; "May I never read a
text again, if he isna a sawmont wi' a shouther like a hog!"--"Grip him by
the gills, Twister," cried I.--"Saul will I!" cried the Twiner; but just
then there was a heave, a roll, a splash, a slap like a pistol-shot; down
went Sam, and up went the salmon, spun like a shilling at pitch and toss,
six feet into the air. I leaped in just as he came to the water; but my
foot caught between two stones, and the more I pulled the firmer it stuck.
The fish fell in a spot shallower than that from which he had leaped. Sam
saw the chance, and tackled to again: while I, sitting down in the stream
as best I might, held up my torch, and cried fair play, as shoulder to
shoulder, throughout and about, up and down, roll and tumble, to it they
went, Sam and the salmon.
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