CHAPTER XXXI
THE BIG TROUT
'The light's going fast,' remarked Dick, as supper was ending.
'So it is,' said Chippy, 'and I ain't got a fishin'-rod yet.'
He sprang to his feet and seized the tomahawk.
'Where are you going to get one?' cried Dick.
'Handy by,' replied the Raven, and marched to a thicket of hazels within thirty yards of the camp fire. Dick heard one or two strokes of the little axe, and then Chippy came back dragging a tall, straight hazel stem nine or ten feet long. He sat down, took his knife, and began to trim off the side branches.
'So that's your rod, is it?' said Dick.
'Jolly good un, too, for what I want,' returned Chippy. 'Ye'll soon see.'
He trimmed the hazel and cut down the weaker end until he had a strong, pliant rod about eight feet long. Next he unwound his hank of cord, tied one end round the rod a foot from the bottom, then wound the cord round the rod for its full length beyond, and tied it again at the top. In this way the whole spring and strength of the rod would be behind the cord, and aid it in its pull.
'No use just to fasten the line at the top,' commented Chippy; 'if yer do, p'raps the top 'll break, an' then theer's yer line, hook, an' everythin' gone.'
He opened his packet of hooks and took out a largish one, whose shank was covered smoothly with lead.
'I got these hooks from an old chap as lives close by us,' said Chippy. 'He's a reg'lar dab 'and at fishin', an' I've been with him many a time to carry his basket an' things. He rigged me up wi' these when I told 'im about our trip, an' I know wot to do becos I've seen him at it often enough. Now for the minnows.'
Chippy took the largest minnow, and, by the light of the fire, deftly worked it over the hook and lead until the latter was hidden in the body of the tiny fish.
'They call this the "pledge,"' he said, as he fastened the line into the loop of the gut; 'an' the way yer use it is the "sink-an'-draw" dodge. It's a sure kill, an' yer almost certain to get a big un.'
'But it's going darker and darker!' cried Dick.
'Dark's the time to use it,' replied his friend; 'that's when the big uns come out an' swim at the bottom o' some deep hole, an' wait for summat to show up atween them an' the sky.'
The scouts now went down to the bank, where Chippy had marked a likely-looking pool between two big hawthorn-bushes. They moved very softly, according to his orders, and when they gained the bank the weighted minnow was swung out, dropped into the water without a splash, and then lowered and raised slowly—the 'sink-and-draw' motion.
For five minutes Chippy worked steadily, and then he felt a sharp tug. In this style of fishing one strikes at once. Chippy struck, and found he was fast in a fish. He could not play it, for he had no reel. Nor is it safe to play under bushes in the dark. It is a case of land or smash, though a practised hand will land where a novice is certain to smash. Chippy put a swift but even strain on the pliant rod, and swung his fish up and out. The line was strong, the gut was good, and the trout was well hooked. Out it came, turning and tumbling on the grass, and Dick pounced upon it, for its under sides showed gleams of silver in the faint light, and he could see it bounding. Chippy took it from him, unhooked it, slipped his forefinger into the trout's mouth, and broke its neck with a dexterous jerk of finger and thumb. Then he weighed it in his hand. 'Not a big un,' he whispered; 'about half a pound. There ought to be more on 'em in this pool.'
He examined the minnow, and found that by good luck the trout had done little or no damage to it, and it would serve another turn, so he went to work once more. Several minutes passed, and then he had another bite, and again landed his fish, but it was a little smaller than the first.
'No big uns in this pool,' murmured Chippy. 'Theer's another good place about thirty yards up. We'll try that.'
The minnow had been badly torn by the teeth of the second trout, so by the light of a couple of wax matches, struck one after the other by Dick, Chippy fixed a fresh bait on the leaded hook. Then they went up to the second pool.
'S'pose yer have a try here,' whispered Chippy to Dick. 'It's as easy as can be. Ye must just let it down an' pull it up again, quiet an' easy. Ye'll know soon enough when a fish lays hold on it. Then give a little jerk to fasten th' 'ook in. Next lug him right up, pullin' smooth an' steady wi'out givin' an inch. If yer do, he'll get away, most likely.'
Dick took the rod and let the minnow down into the smooth dark pool where stars were reflected between the shadows of overhanging branches. Down and up, down and up, down and up, he lowered and raised the bait, many, many times, but there was no sign that the pool held a fish. He was about to whisper to Chippy that it was useless to try longer, when there came a tremendous tug, which almost tore the hazel wand out of his grasp. He tightened his clutch convulsively, and in recovering the rod he struck the fish, for at the next moment the tug of a tightly hooked 'big un' shook him from head to foot. Then there was a terrific splash at his feet, which caused his heart to jump into his mouth. The trout had leaped clean out of the water.
'Pull up! Pull up!' yelled Chippy, and Dick pulled. The fish was so firmly hooked that he was still there, and now the rod bent and twisted in Dick's hands as if that, too, were alive and trying to free itself from his wild clutch. Dick raised the fish slowly, for it felt tremendously heavy, and when he had it on the surface it kicked and wallowed till you might have thought a dog was splashing in the water.
'A good swing an' step back,' roared Chippy. Dick obeyed, and gave a big lift. He felt the hazel bend and tremble in his hands, then Chippy pounced on something, and the rod was still.
'Have we got it?' cried Dick breathlessly, for he had felt sure that the trout was too strong for their tackle.
'Got 'im,' snapped Chippy in triumph, 'an' a good un, too. They say it's allus the new hands as get the best luck. We've got plenty now, an' it ain't allowed to tek' more'n we can eat.'
This trout was far too big for Chippy to kill with finger and thumb, so he whipped off his jacket, rolled the fish in it, and the two scouts hurried back to the camp fire. Here Chippy despatched the trout by a sharp tap behind its head, delivered with the handle of the tomahawk, and the boys gloated over their prize. It was a fine, short, hog-backed trout, weighing well over three pounds, and in the pink of condition.
''Bout as much as anybody wants to lift out wi' a nut-stick,' commented Chippy, while Dick stared entranced at his glorious shining prize.
'Time to turn in now, I shouldn't wonder,' said the Raven, and the Wolf looked at his watch.
'Close upon ten,' said the latter.
'Well, we've just about 'ad a day of it,' said his comrade. 'I'll bet we'll be off to sleep like a shot.'