Weston did not notice that he was disturbing the equilibrium of the tree.
"Let your reel run!" he cried.
He groped around among the branches, with a good deal of the upper part of his body under water, and when at length he emerged there was a big, gleaming fish in one hand.

Ida saw him jerk its head back, with his fingers in its gills, and then, standing upright, he hurled it toward her.
"It beats the major's largest one!" he announced.
Ida laid down her rod and scrambled toward the fish; but there was a splashing sound as she bent over it, and when she looked around sharply she saw the big pine slide out into the stream.

Weston stood with his back toward her, apparently gazing at the rock, until he suddenly leaped forward and clutched at it.

She could not see what he clung to, but the surface was uneven, and he evidently had found a foothold.

Then, while a thrill of horror ran through her, she glanced at the pine and saw it whirl out into the rapid.