As little noise as possible was made; but though the men bit their lips instead of crying out when they missed their fish, there was a continuous ring of their weapons on the stones, and every irrepressible imprecation was echoed up and down the black glen.

Two or three of the gang were told off to land the salmon, and they had to work smartly and deftly.

They kept by the side of the spearsman, and the moment he struck a fish they grabbed at it with their hands.

When the spear had a barb there was less chance of the fish's being lost; but often this was not the case, and probably not more than two-thirds of the salmon speared were got safely to the bank.
The takes of course varied; sometimes, indeed, the black-fishers returned home empty-handed.
Encounters with the bailiffs were not infrequent, though they seldom took place at the water's edge.

When the poachers were caught in the act, and had their blood up with the excitement of the sport, they were ugly customers.