"Silver salmon, mystery of the seas."

"Salmon! Salmon!"

Again the cry was borne up to Bluff Castle from the shore. In a few minutes Pierre and Winslow, followed shortly after by Marie and Suzanne, hurried down the road. The tide was out, and as they came in sight of the weir they saw Len Lawson moving about in the shallow water of the channel between the island and the mainland. The first run of salmon of the season had come, which had been expected for several days.

Again Len called out, "Salmon! Salmon!" as he saw the men approach down the beach. He had in his hands a long, slight pole about twelve feet long, and as he moved about he struck the water with it and appeared to be much excited.

"Come on, Mr. Winslow," he cried out, "here is sport for you. There are fifty of them at least." He struck the water again, and Winslow could see the ripples made by a number of fish in rapid motion through the water.

Low tide had left but a narrow and shallow channel, across which had been placed a weir, composed of brush. The bottom of the channel was solid rock, and to keep the weir in position, and to prevent the rapid tides carrying it out, heavy beams had been laid down and pinned to the rock bed with iron bolts. To these beams were attached the posts supporting the weir.

The place had been well chosen. The water at certain times of the tide was but a few inches deep at the shallowest point. From this point each way the water deepened gradually. About fifty yards from this shallow point, in the direction the tide takes when running out, the weir was placed. In this way the shallow water prevented the fish escaping back into the sea, and the weir shut them off from the water on the other side. In this pond, so to speak, they were kept till the tide rose again. Yet there was a broad stretch of water for them to move about to escape the efforts of the beaters to strike them. At other times the tide did not fall low enough to enable the salmon to be caught. As it happened, the tide now ran low, and the fish had come in, and there was considerable excitement apparent in the efforts made to secure the valuable fish.

The water was perfectly clear, and the school of salmon could be seen darting about easily in the deeper tide. Often, when separated, they leaped into the air, or broke the bright surface of the water into tiny ripples which showed the rapid movements of their silvery bodies. When in the shallower places their fins could be seen as they curved back into deeper water.

A party of American tourists from the hotel on the mainland was now approaching, to witness the capture of the salmon. Winslow in a few moments found himself in the water, where he was soon joined by others. Each took up a position and was provided with a pole.

The work now began in earnest. The men thrashed here and there, and as the salmon darted about they attempted to strike the water above them so as to stun them till they could be taken to the shore. Often in the excitement somebody would fall into the water, or would be well splashed by somebody else, and thus for some minutes the scene was a lively as well as a noisy one.

Each salmon stunned by a blow was carried to shore, and all were captured but one, very large and swift, which had eluded the efforts of the beaters.

Suddenly it darted into the shadow of one of the beams supporting the weir poles. Seeing this, Pierre, who had taken no part in the killing of the salmon, called the other men away from the fish, and approaching from the other side of the log, slipped his hand over it. He touched the side of the fish with his fingers, and at once the salmon inclined towards his hand, and in another moment Pierre slipped his fingers into its gills and lifted it from the water.

The exclamations of surprise that this feat elicited were interrupted by loud laughter from Len Lawson, who was having some amusement at the expense of one of the strangers. This gentleman had removed his glasses, and being near-sighted, had attacked a large fish which he supposed was a salmon. Len drew it from the water, and held it up to view as Pierre was carrying to shore the salmon he had caught. It proved to be a large and extremely ugly fish, with head out of all proportion to its body, and known as a sculpin, a fish without any apparent use in nature. As he approached to examine it more closely Len threw it towards him, and in stepping back to avoid it he fell with a splash into the water.

"Another salmon," cried Len, as he threw it. "May you enjoy it when it is served."

When the stranger rose to his feet again Len feared that he had gone too far with the joke, and said,

"I am very sorry, sir; I did not mean to make you wet."

"It's all right, young man," returned the other; "I am not much wetter than I was previously, thanks to this kind of fun. However, my fondness for water will never equal what yours may be some day."

Len's smile vanished, and an ugly look came into his eyes, and he muttered something under his breath. He looked stealthily about him, and moved away from the people. Winslow saw the whole affair, and wondered what the meaning of the sudden change in Len's manner meant, as he did not understand the words of the stranger.

The salmon were now divided up, or sold on the spot at a high price, and in a few more minutes the tide turned and filled up quickly the space between the shores.

Pierre and Winslow walked up the road together, and the old man explained to his friend the meaning of the words that had so affected Len. The story was in substance as follows:

An old Acadian woman and her grandson, whose father and mother had died while attempting to reach their own country again after having been left on the shore of Virginia, had reached this part of the province after months of difficulty and hardship. She was passing through a settlement of English people. The whole care and hope of her life were in her grandchild. She had often given to him and starved herself for his sake. She had carried him miles and miles to save him from suffering. On this day she had walked a long distance in the heat of the summer, and held him in her arms while he slept. He awoke, and feeling very thirsty, asked several times for a drink. Just then a man approached with a bucket of water which he had taken from a well or spring. Seeing him, the child again cried out for a drink. On this the woman arose from the stone on which she had rested for a moment, and asked the man for a sip to give her child. The man refused her request, and pushing her aside, passed on, leaving the child in tears. The man's cruelty and the tears of the child aroused her, and crying out after the man as he left her, she said:

"Man of hate! Man of Satan! you shall thirst. And your sons from their manhood shall thirst till your name shall die. Your breed shall be cursed with what you deny my child."

"From that day," said Pierre, in concluding his narrative, "the sons of the man have been afflicted with an awful, unquenchable thirst. They are known as the water-cursed, and they are dying out. It is believed by the people here that Len will not escape the water curse, and it has isolated them from their own race. There are several who are afflicted, but Len has not come of age yet. I know what the effect upon them has been, and it is indeed a curse.

"Unfortunately for Len, he has grown into a violent attachment for Marie. No Acadian would marry a victim of the water curse."

"I have observed evidence of his love for Marie," he replied.

"They have known each other from childhood," the old man continued.

"Your daughter is young, sir, and doubtless you intend to continue her education?" said Winslow.

"Marie goes to school in winter, as that season is severe here. I wish to give her as much schooling as I can. I have little to leave her when I am gone."

Marie in her radiant and beautiful maidenhood was waiting for her father at the door of Bluff Castle.