Read Camping on the St. Lawrence; Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers Page 8


  CHAPTER VI.

  THE FIRST DAY'S SPORT.

  Ethan and his son soon had breakfast ready for the campers, and asthey had brought with them from home some dainty viands such as onlythe housewives of the region knew how to prepare, these, with the foodthe fishermen cooked, made a repast over which even a king might haverejoiced, especially if he could have boasted of such an appetite asthe lads on Pine Tree Island had.

  None of them was thinking, however, of kings or of kingly appetitesthat morning; and when at last the boys ceased, chiefly because eventhe well-spread table had been cleared, Jock turned to Ethan and said,"Where are you going to take us to-day?"

  "Fishin'."

  "Yes, I know; but where are we going to fish?"

  "Oh, I haven't jest made up my mind yet. Mebbe in one place, and thenagain mebbe in another. Will try our luck till we strike what wewant."

  Perceiving that Ethan was averse to committing himself on suchdelicate matters, Jock called to his companions and they at once beganto collect their rods and the various necessities of the day, and bythe time they had all things ready, Ethan and Tom had stored away thecooking utensils, and soon after came to the dock.

  "Is it safe to leave everything here in the camp without any one towatch it?" said Bob.

  "Hey?" replied Ethan. "Safe? 'Tisn't goin' to rain to-day."

  "Oh, I wasn't afraid of the weather. I didn't know but some one mightcome along and, finding no one in the camp, help himself; that's all."

  "Folks is honest here," said Ethan, gruffly. "I s'pose you have tokeep your doors locked down to New York, don't ye?"

  "Why, yes, we usually do," said Bert.

  "Well, I'm glad I don't live there, that's all I can say then. Ihaven't got a lock on my house over at the Corners, and I haven't hadsince I built, nigh on twenty-two years ago."

  "What!" exclaimed Ben. "You don't mean to say you don't lock upnights, do you?"

  "That's just what I mean to say. I never had nothin' stole since I'velived here. Folks is honest here, I tell ye. If anything is taken,it'll be because some o' the city folks what come down here summershas taken it. The city must be a dreadful place to live in. They sayeven flowers won't grow there; an' if the posies don't like it, Idon't know what it must be when it comes to huming bein's and boys.Heow ye goin' to divide up yer party?"

  It was speedily arranged that Jock and Bob should go with Ethan, andthe other boys with Tom. The skiffs were at once prepared, and whenthe fishing tackle had been placed on board, the boys took their seatsas the men directed.

  What a delightful experience it was, they all thought. The skiffs weremodels of beauty and grace, and the seats the boys occupied were canechairs from which the legs had been cut, and were also provided withcushions. Bob was seated in the stern and Jock in the bow, with Ethanbetween them, and in the other boat a similar arrangement had beenmade.

  As soon as he perceived that they were ready, Ethan grasped the oars,and with steady strokes began to row out into the river. The waterover which they passed was clear and beautiful. Scarcely a breezeruffled the surface, and as the light skiff darted ahead, it almostseemed as if it required no effort to send it forward.

  "I don't know but ye might as well bait up," said Ethan, when they hadgone a few hundred yards from the camp. "I don't s'pose ye'll catchanything here, but there's no harm in tryin'. It's about time for themuscalonge to begin to run, an' who knows but ye might strike one?"

  Ethan rested on his oars, and taking first one of the lines and thenthe other, attached a live minnow to each of the hooks, and threw themoverboard.

  "Neow, let out about a hundred an' twenty-five or fifty feet," hesaid, "an' we'll troll till we get where we're goin' first."

  Far behind on one side of the skiff stretched Jock's line, and on theother was Bob's, and as they paid out the slender cord they could seethat their friends in the other boat, which was distant about twohundred yards, had followed their example.

  "This is what I call great sport," said Jock, contentedly.

  "It is pretty good," replied Bob. "At least it isn't what you callactual labor, except for Ethan. I think it's rather my way of fishing.I've heard them tell about catching trout with an eight-ounce rod, andhow a fellow has to crawl through the bushes and tumble over the logs,and then he makes his cast. He mustn't move, they say, not even if amillion million mosquitoes and black flies light on his hand; and thenif he succeeds, at last he yanks up a little speckled trout thatweighs about four ounces, and he thinks he's had a great catch. No, Ithink this is the situation which is better adapted to my precious anddelicate frame," and as he spoke Bob stretched himself out lazily inhis chair and permitted his rod to rest on the boat, while he gazedabout him with an air of deep satisfaction and content.

  And truly there was much to produce that feeling. The early sunlightnow flashed across the water and covered all things with its halo. Inthe distance were the dark green forests, and here and there amongthe islands, or on the main shore, the rising curls of smoke indicatedthe location of the cottages or summer camps. The very air was atonic; or, as Jock declared, 'it seemed to him it was so laden withlife that he could almost bite it off.'

  And all the time the two boats were moving slowly and steadily overthe water, Ethan pulling lightly at the oars and from time to timeglancing keenly at the lines, which seemed to fade away in the river.The calls of the far-away crows or the sight of a great hawk circlinghigh in the heavens above them only increased the wildness of thescene, and for a time the roar of the great city and the sight of itscrowded streets seemed only like the memory of a dream. Even theoccupation in which the boys were supposed to be engaged seemedunreal, and Bob closed his eyes dreamily and permitted the rays of thesun to strike him full in the face.

  "I say, Ethan," said Bob, opening his eyes lazily, "don't you think ithurts the fish you put on those hooks?"

  "Hurt 'em? Naw! Fish hasn't any feelin's."

  "How do you know that, Ethan?"

  "They never make no complaint, do they?"

  "Yes, they kick."

  "No, they don't kick. They can't kick without legs, can they? Theyjest wiggle."

  "It's all the same. It seems pretty hard to put 'em on those hooks."

  "Hard? Not a bit. It's give an' take with a fish. The big fish eat thelittle ones, and the little ones eat the smaller fellows. Now it'sonly gettin' what they tried to give, that's all; and they can'tcomplain."

  Bob made no reply, and settled back into his former lazy attitude.Ethan still rowed slowly on, casting occasional glances at the lines,which the boys had apparently forgotten. But the fisherman knew whatwas unknown by the others in the boat, and that was that they wereapproaching a shoal, and it was not unlikely that something mighthappen here of interest to all on board.

  Suddenly Bob sat erect in his seat and made a frantic grasp at hisrod, which had almost been torn from his hands.

  "Hold on, Ethan," he said quickly. "My hook's caught on the bottom."

  The fisherman smiled, but made no reply as he backed water and swungthe little boat around in the current.

  "Caught on the bottom, did ye?" he inquired sharply. "Well, thatdoesn't look much like bottom!"

  As he spoke, about a hundred feet in the rear of the boat a good-sizedfish leaped from the surface in the sight of them all, and almostseemed to shake himself as a dog does when he has been in the water.

  "Bass," said Ethan, laconically. "Now look out heow ye play him. Don'tgive him any slack. Be careful. Keep yer hand on the reel."

  It is doubtful whether Bob heard any of the boatman's directions, forhe was all excitement now. He stood up in the boat and gave all hisattention to the fish, which was struggling to free himself. Again andagain the tip of the rod was drawn under the water, and the "zip" ofthe line as it sped from the reel was distinctly heard.

  The bass was well hooked, and for a time the struggle became mostexciting. Again and again Bob brought the fish near to the boat, andthen, with a dart and a rush, away the victi
m would go, making thereel sing as the line was drawn out.

  "Be careful," muttered Ethan. "You'll tucker him out pretty quick, an'then we'll have him. Give him the line, but don't let him have anyslack. That's right. Let him go," he added, as once more the fishdarted toward the deeper water.

  Bob steadily held to his task, and when he felt that the run of thebass was ended, began once more to reel him in toward the boat. Thefish was evidently tired now, and his resistance was much less strong.Nearer and nearer the eager boy brought him, and soon, peering overthe side of the boat, could see in the clear water the movements ofthe struggling fish. Ethan had grasped his landing-net, and was readyfor the last effort.

  "Bring him up near the boat now," he said, "and we've got him. Looksharp, and don't give him any slack!" he added, as the fish, perhapshaving caught sight of the boat, began once more to struggledesperately. Darting first in one direction and then in another hemade the line cut deeply into the water, while more than once hedragged the rod far below the surface.

  "Look out, now! Don't give him any slack! Bring him up alongside!"called Ethan, as with his landing-net in the water he endeavored tothrust it under the struggling fish.

  But, alas! in his excitement Bob either neglected the directions givenhim or was unable to comply, for somehow his grasp on the reel wasremoved, the line sped out, and when the excited lad began to reel inagain, the tension was suddenly relaxed, and with a quick movement ofthe boat he was thrown back into the chair.

  "He's gone! He's got away!" exclaimed Bob, ruefully.

  "So I see," remarked Ethan, as he calmly picked up his oars andresumed his labors.

  "But he was a big fellow!" protested Bob, "and I had him right up tothe boat."

  "He was a pretty good one," said Ethan, "but it's a game of 'now yousee him and now you don't.' It's a good deal of a trick to know how toland a three-pound bass. Still, you didn't do so very bad for agreenhorn."

  Bob made no reply as he slowly reeled in his line at the boatman'sdirection. Greenhorn! Well, there were some things he did not know,although he had spent much time in the city. To his mind Ethan, withall his good qualities, had been the greenhorn; but now the boatmanwas the one to accuse him of the possession of that very quality. Hisrespect for Ethan went up instantly, and he looked up at him in a newlight.

  "You'll soon get the hang o' it," said Ethan kindly, as he proceededto bait Bob's hook again. "You did first-rate for a beginner. The mainthing is to look out for yer slack. A bass is a fighter, and he'lltake advantage o' ye every time you give him a chance. I think we'lltry it again around this shoal. One strike may bring another."

  "Why do the bass come to the shoals, Ethan?" inquired Jock.

  "That's where the minnies [Ethan meant minnows] are, and they're theones the bass feed on. Now we'll try it again."

  Once more Ethan began to row, and the long lines dragged on behind theboat. Both boys were all eagerness now, and Bob's laziness haddeparted. They watched and waited for the longed-for "strike," andsoon to Bob's great delight he felt the tug upon his line whichindicated that his hook had again been seized.

  "Now be careful, son," said Ethan, "and mind you don't give him anyslack."

  Mindful of the caution, Bob worked carefully, and after a timesucceeded in bringing the fish up to the boat, when Ethan deftlythrust the landing-net underneath it and threw it into the boat, andwith a blow of a stout hickory club speedily put an end to thestruggle.

  "I 'most always does that," he explained. "I don't s'pose a fish knowsanything about it, but I don't like to see 'em go ker-flop, ker-flop!so I puts 'em out o' their misery. Besides, they're better eatin' whenye treat 'em that way."

  "This one is a little fellow," said Bob, regretfully, as he gazed atthe fish, which now had been thrown into the fish-box. "The other musthave been ten times as large as this one. That was a monster!"

  "The big ones 'most always gets away," replied Ethan, smilingly. "An'they grow mighty fast, too, sometimes. The farther away they git thebigger they be."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Oh, nothin'; but that I've knowed a man when he was out with me tolose a half-pound bass, an' by the time he got back to the camp or thehotel, that 'ere bass weighed a plump five pound. It's marvellouslike, the way they grow sometimes."

  "Where's the other boat?" said Jock.

  "I dunno. We'll let 'em look after themselves a bit. We'll try it hereagain afore we leave. It's your turn next to get one."

  Eager to continue the sport, the boys once more let out their lines,as Ethan began to row slowly over the shoal again.