Guy Mannering.

280 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
Dinmont on the subject, but for obvious reasons concluded
it were best to defer the explanation until a cool hour in
the morning.
The sportsmen returned loaded with fish, upwards of
one hundred salmon having been killed within the range
of their sport. The best were selected for the use of the
principal farmers, the others divided among their shepherds, cottars, dependents, and others of inferior rank
who attended. These fish, dried in the turf smoke of
their cabins, or shealings, formed a savoury addition to the
mess of potatoes, mixed with onions, which was the principal part of their winter food. In the meanwhile, a
liberal distribution of ale and whisky was made among
them, besides what was called a kettle of fish,-two or
three salmon, namely, plunged into a cauldron, and boiled
for their supper. Brown accompanied his jolly landlord
and the rest of his friends into the large and smoky
kitchen, where this savoury mess reeked on an oaken
table, massive enough to have dined Johnnie Armstrong
and his merry-men. All was hearty cheer and huzza,
and jest and clamorous laughter, and bragging alternately, and raillery between whiles. Our traveller looked
earnestly around for the dark countenance of the foxhunter; but it was nowhere to be seen.
At length he hazarded a question concerning him.
"That was an awkward accident, my lads, of one of you,
who dropped his torch in the water when his companion
was struggling with the large fish."
"Awkward! " returned a shepherd, looking up, (the
same stout young fellow who had speared the salmon,)
"he deserved, his paiks for't-to put out the light when
the fish was on ane's witters! * —I'm weel convinced
* The barbs of the spear.