Whish went the line again.
“Well done, Max. Go on. You’ll soon do it, and catch a salmon,” cried Kenneth.
“It’s very awkward standing here,” said Max appealingly.
“You’re all right. Throw away. Get your fly the other side of the stone.”
“Phwhat for will she get the flee the other side o’ the stane?” muttered Tavish, tugging at his beard.
“Now, another, Max. Go on.”
“Noo anither, she says to the puir feckless laddie.”
Whizz!
Max made a desperate throw, and, to his own wonderment, the line, with the fly at the end, passed right over the great block of stone lying close to the shore.
“Is that right?” said Max.