“Hurroo-hoo-oo!” yelled the Norseman, flying after me with the gaff.
How I managed to keep my footing in the rush over the broken dike I know not. It is a marvel to me. The bushes on the island overhung the water, the earth having been cut away by the force of the rapid. I tried to pull up because they were too thick to crash through; but the fish willed it otherwise. The line was getting low on the reel; the rod bent double; presently I had to straighten it out—in another moment I was in the water over the boots, which filled of course in a moment. But this did not impede me as long as I was in deep water.
I was forsaken at this point by Anders, who sought and found a safe passage to the mainland, where he stood gazing at me with his eyes blazing and his mouth wide open.
I soon reached the end of the island, to my horror, for I had not previously taken particular note of the formation of the land there. A gulf of water of five or six yards broad of unknown depth lay between me and that shore, by which in the natural course of things I should have followed my fish as far as he chose. The rapid itself looked less tremendous than this deep black hole. I hesitated, but the salmon did not. Still down he went.
“Now, then,” thought I, “hole or rapid?”
The question was settled for me, for before I could decide, I was hauled into the rapid. No doubt I was a more than half-willing captive. Anyhow, willing or not willing, down I went. Ah! what a moment of ease and relief from exertion was that when I went a little deeper than the waist, and found myself borne pleasantly along on tip-toe, as light as one of those beautiful balls with which juveniles—in these highly favoured days—are wont to sport in the fields!
And oh—ho-o! how my spirit seemed to gush out through my mouth and nose, or out at the top of my head, when the cold water encircled my neck as I lost my footing altogether, and struck out with my right hand, endeavouring the while to support my rod in the left!
I heard Anders gasp at this point; but I saw him not. In another second my knees came into violent contact with a rock, (alas! every motion of my body, as I now write, reminds me painfully of that crash!) Immediately after this I was sprawling up the bank, having handed the rod to Anders to hold, while I tossed my legs again in the air, to get rid of the water which weighed me down like lead. How earnestly I wished that I could tear these boots off and fling them away! But there was no time for that. On regaining my legs I seized the rod, and found that the salmon had brought up in an eddy created by the tail of a gravel-bank in the centre of the river between two rapids.
“Good,” I gasped, blandly.
Anders smiled.