“At what part of the pool?”
“Just below the tail of the island, where the water is deep, and rolls with numberless oily ripples.”
“Ha! a likely spot,” said Karlsefin.
At that moment a salmon leaped out of the pool, as if to assure him that Hake’s statement was true, and immediately afterwards another fish rose and flourished its fan-like tail, as if to make assurance doubly sure.
For some time they went about examining that part of the river, which, the reader will remember, has been described as being divided for some distance by a long island into two streams, which again united after spreading out into a broad rippling shallow. Here Biarne was very silent and very close in his inspection of the bed of the river, particularly at the top and lower end of the island.
“It appears to me as if some plan were rolling in your head, Biarne,” said Karlsefin; “what may it be?”
“Truly a plan is forming in my brain. Simple enough too, only the details require consideration.”
“Well, we must now return home, so we can discuss it on the way.”
“You know of our custom in Iceland,” said Biarne, as they retraced their steps, “in regard to a river which is similar to this in the matter of having two channels—they shut off the water from one channel and catch the fish when the bed is dry.”
“Know it? Ay, I know it well; why, man, how comes it that this did not occur to me before? We will have it tried, and that without delay. What is worth doing at all is worth doing at once, unless it can be clearly shown that there shall be distinct gain by delay. As this cannot be shown on the present occasion we will begin to-morrow.”