It was easy to believe in salmon anywhere, but rabbits in trees! "I catched it i' the brainches o' a lairick (larch)," Donal answered, "easy eneuch, for it cudna rin far, an' was mair fleyt at the watter nor at me; but for the sawmon, haith I was ower an' ower wi' hit i' the watter, efter I gruppit it, er' I cud ca' 't my ain." Before the flood subsided, not a few rabbits were caught in trees, mostly spruce-firs and larches.

For salmon, they were taken everywhere--among grass, corn, and potatoes, in bushes, and hedges, and cottages.

One was caught on a lawn with an umbrella; one was reported to have been found in a press-bed; another, coiled round in a pot hanging from the crook--ready to be boiled, only that he was alive and undressed.
Donal was still being cross-questioned by his master when the strange woman re-entered.

Lying upon her straw, she had seen, through the fanlight over the stable door, the swiftness of the current there passing, and understood the danger.
"I doobt," she said, addressing no one in particular, "the ga'le o' the stable winna stan' abune anither half-hoor." "It maun fa' than," said the farmer, taking a pinch of snuff in hopeless serenity, and turning away.
"Hoots!" said the woman, "dinna speyk that gait, sir.

It's no wice-like.