Meanwhile Sam learned to handle a pair of oars with skill and a
canoe paddle less dexterously. There were fish in the lake and Sam
was a devoted disciple of Walton. His usual companion on his fishing
trips was Tom Crossbush. Tom pretended to be enthusiastic about the
sport, but I think his liking for Sam was the real reason for his
participation in the excursions down the lake. At all events, his
enthusiasm soon wore off after his line was dropped and most of the
fish that were caught came up on Sam’s hook. Once or twice Steve Brown
went along, but Steve didn’t pretend to know much about the gentle art
and as often as not sat for long stretches with, as he said, “nothing
on his hook but water.” Nevertheless, it was Steve who, later on in
August, by some miracle hauled in the biggest black bass in the history
of the camp. It weighed just four pounds and six ounces and Steve was
so delighted that he sent it away to be mounted. Mr. Langham, who,
could he have done so, would have been on the lake every day holding a
bass rod, threw up his hands in disgust when he saw Steve’s capture.
“Beginner’s luck!” he grumbled. “I’ve fished in that lake twenty times
and never got better than a two-pounder! What bait did you have?”
“Just a worm, sir,” answered Steve innocently.
“A worm! You mean an angle-worm?” sputtered the Chief.
Steve assented, and Sam, laughing, said: “He won’t use hellgamites,
Chief. He says they’re too ugly!”
“A garden worm!” exclaimed Mr. Langham. “Great jumping Jupiter! Don’t
you know you don’t catch bass with angle-worms, you ignoramus?”
“Sorry,” replied Steve, grinning. “I caught this one that way, though.”
“I wouldn’t boast of it, then,” grunted the Chief. “You insulted
the fish’s intelligence! Four pounds and six ounces!” Mr. Langham
subsided, shaking his head and viewing the fish enviously.
Bass didn’t always bite, however, and perch were the usual catch. But
four or five fair-sized perch make a palatable addition to the supper
or breakfast menu, and the Chief’s table, at the lower end of which Sam
had his place, was not infrequently graced with it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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