By permission of H. K. Burrison.
Eighty-pound Pacific Salmon Leaping Waterfall on an Alaska River.
Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries.
"Small chinook," he said, as he tossed him into the boat.
He had hardly finished speaking before Colin made a grab for his rod, and the catch was repeated in almost the same manner. This went on until five fish had been caught, the last one, which fell to the professor, putting up the most gamy fight of them all. But still it was too easy for real sport.
The ripple which Colin had been watching had come nearer, and in the catching of the last fish, the boat had been brought quite close to it.
Then, noiselessly, and like a strange vision, out from the undulating ripples rose slowly a creature more fantastic than the boy's wildest dreams. The head was green, with large unwinking, glittering eyes. In slow contortions, the body, of a transparency that showed the light through, writhed like a tremendous ribbon-snake, and a sharp row of serrated fins surmounted all its length, from which, near the head, scarlet streamers floated like a mane. A moment thus it held its head erect, then sank below the surface. The boy sat with his eyes fixed upon the spot where he had seen this weird appearance, unknown and ghostly-seeming.