With bated breath and quivering fins the other pickerels peered out from under the rocks at the desperate struggle which immediately ensued. It was short, but decisive. The waters of the pool were lashed into foam. The little pickerels were half-mad with terror. All at once they gave a loud cheer. The victorious patriarch was returning. There was bloody foam on his jaws, but several inches of fish-line hung from between them. The aged hero paid no attention to the cheering, but swam dejectedly into the farthest corner of his den. Mother Pickerel followed him in silence. When she returned, her eyes were red.
"Didn't Grandfather get the hook after all?" asked Baby Pickerel.
"Hush, dear," said Mother Pickerel, wiping her eyes with the tip of her tail. "Yes, your grandfather has the hook safe in the pit of his stomach along with all the others, and it is paining him dreadfully."
The Princess was still fanning the flies away from the face of Reginald. John was cultivating corn on the high bank of the river. Every five or six minutes he turned his team near by from one row into the next one. Toots remembered John's extra pole and line concealed behind the old cottonwood. He went and got it. But how about bait? Then Toots had a second inspiration. He recalled Grandfather Pickerel's remark about grasshoppers. There were plenty of them all about. At that instant a fat one dropped out of the tree and lay with its long legs on the rocks at Toots' feet. The boy, as tenderly as possible, stuck it on the hook and went back to the boulder. First, he would see what was going on in the bosom of the Pickerel Family.
Mother Pickerel was asking Grandfather Pickerel if he didn't think he'd better take a bite of something to stay his stomach till dinner-time.
"There's some nice tender tadpoles over in the mouth of the brook," she said. "Do try half a dozen raw, dearie, won't you?"
It was at that very instant that Toots' grasshopper, with the hook through the small of his back, jumped out of his hands into the pool. Before the boy had time to realize what had happened, the line and then the pole began moving of their own accord toward the water's edge. Toots grabbed the pole and was nearly dragged into the pool. He looked around and saw John turning his team on the high bank.
"I've got him, John! Come here quick!" yelled Toots.
Reginald awoke barely in time to seize the end of the pole before it and Toots had been dragged into the water. John came tearing down the bank, shouting at the top of his voice: