"This is ferry strange, Miss Honnor," said he, "that the fly-book is not
in the bag. And I could not have dropped it out. I was not thinking of
looking for it when we started, for I knew I had put it there--"
"Oh, I know, Robert," she said at once. "Mr. Lestrange asked me this
morning for some small Durham Rangers; and I told him to go and take
them out of the book. So he has taken the book out of the bag and
stupidly forgot to put it back."
"Then I will go aweh down to the Lodge and get it," Robert suggested.
"Is it worth while?" she said. "There is a fly on the casting-line; and
there won't be much fishing this afternoon."
"I am not so sure," old Robert made answer. "There might be some clouds;
and it is safer to hef the book whatever."
"Very well," said she. "And in that case I will take Mr. Moore over to
the other side of the Geinig Pool, and ask him to creep out on the
middle rock, and perhaps he will see something. Will there be any
gold-fish in the globe, Robert?"
Old Robert grinned.
"Oh, yes, Miss Honnor, the fish will be there, but there is little
chance of your getting one out."
"At any rate, Mr. Moore will be pleased to see a globe of gold-fish in
the middle of a Highland moor," she said; and, when Robert had picked up
the luncheon things, they all set off down the Geinig valley together.
But when they reached a certain wooden foot-bridge across the stream,
Robert held on his way, making for the Lodge, while Lionel, well
content and asking no questions, followed the young lady. She led the
way across the bridge and along the opposite bank until they reached the
Geinig Pool, where they scrambled down to the side of the river just
above the falls. Here she showed him how to step from one boulder to
another, until he found himself on a huge gray rock right in the middle;
and forthwith she directed him to crawl out to the edge of the rock, and
just put his head over, and see what he could see. As for crawling, he
considered himself quite an adept at that now; in an instant he was down
on hands and knees, making his way out to the end of the rock. And
certainly what he beheld when he cautiously peered over the edge was
worth all the trouble. Here, in an almost circular pool, apparently of
great depth, the surface of the water was as smooth as glass; for the
bulk of the stream tumbled in and tumbled out again along the southern
side, leaving this dark hole in an eddy; and the sunlight, striking down
into the translucent depths, revealed to him certain slowly moving forms
which he recognized at once as salmon. They were not like salmon in
color, to be sure; through the dun water their purplish-blue backs
showed a dull olive-green; but salmon they undoubtedly were, and of a
good size, too. Of course he was immensely excited by such a novel
sight. With intensest curiosity he watched them making their slow
circles of the pool, exactly like gold-fish in a globe. They seemed to
be about four or five feet under the surface.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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