Soon they had pulled away from the other canoe and Crooked Arrow who had taken the stern of the canoe, was steering the canoe for a point of land about a half a mile down the lake shore. Black Hawk turned to him and asked, “Why do you steer for that part of the lake, Crooked Arrow? I should think that that section of lake over to the eastward would be better.” “Crooked Arrow knows where the fish are, little Black Hawk.” He said nothing more but pulled strongly with his paddle and the canoe fairly skimmed across the water. Black Hawk thought to himself that they would probably have gone even faster if he, Black Hawk, had removed his paddle from the water, for he could not keep up with Crooked Arrow’s stroke and was causing a backwash with his paddle by dragging it through the water. Finally Crooked Arrow said, “My little friend, dip your paddle deep and pull strongly back toward the stern of the canoe. When you have completed the stroke, draw your paddle completely from the water and reach it forward high in the air before placing it in the water again.” Black Hawk followed his instructions, and soon he found that the paddling was a lot easier by using that technique than the way he had been trying to paddle. He had been concentrating so hard on his paddling that he did not realize that they were soon to the place where Crooked Arrow said that they would be sure to catch some fish. Crooked Arrow motioned for Black Hawk to throw his line overboard, which he did, and with that Crooked Arrow slowed down the canoe to an even, smooth pace which would take them just past the small jutting of land. Black Hawk could see his own lure shining in the water. As the lure came parallel with the jutting land there was a great swirl of water, and the fight was on. A very large fish had grasped the lure in his mouth and it was now a fight between the boy and the fish. It was a huge bass that was threshing around in the water and soon it was obvious that Black Hawk would be the victor. With some swift overhand strokes he had pulled the fish up to the side of the canoe. Then with a thrust of his arm, Crooked Arrow speared the fish with his fish spear and brought him safely aboard. He was a beautiful big bass and Black Hawk was so proud he nearly tipped over the canoe in his excitement to see the fish. “Be not so excited, my young friend. It is a nice-sized fish, but the day is young and we must catch many, many more.” Black Hawk cast his lure in again, and soon the episode was repeated. Back and forth Crooked Arrow paddled near the jutting land and fish after fish fell victim to the line of Black Hawk and the spear of Crooked Arrow. Soon shadows began to gather and Crooked Arrow turned the bow of the canoe toward the place they had started from. Black Hawk paddled even harder now going home, for he was very proud. There in the bottom of the canoe, all nicely strung on an improvised leather loop, were twelve plump large fish.