“How many have we? About thirty? Bruce, it’s lucky we had a sack, otherwise most of them would have jumped back in the river. I never saw such wild fish.”
“And I never saw such a wild fisherman,” Bruce remarked.
“I want to catch one more real big one,” declared Ray without replying to the older lad. “Bruce, I never want to catch any more sunfish and bullheads.”
For a short time the trout seemed to be taking a rest; but then suddenly there came a strike and a pull as if the hook had caught on a wildly spinning log. The limber cedar pole bent and the tip almost touched the water, as the fish rushed into deep water and toward the opposite side of the whirlpool.
“Help me, help me!” Ray called. “I can’t hold him. Maybe I’m caught on a log. No, I’m not. It’s a fish, Bruce! It’s a fish! I can feel it. It’s a big one!”
Bruce took the pole, for the younger boy was tired out with the excitement of the afternoon. “Look out, Bruce, look out!” [[109]]he called. “He will pull you into the whirlpool and drown you! Maybe I have caught an otter or a beaver.”
But Bruce had now gained control of the situation. For some ten or fifteen minutes he skillfully played the big fish on a taut line. Several times the desperately fighting fish broke water, but the line held and the hook could not be shaken out.
“Now then,” called Bruce, when the giant had calmed down. “Now, Ray, take the line and run up the bank.” And out of the black pool came a real rainbow giant, the like of which neither lad had ever seen. Bruce quickly caught the wildly jumping fish behind the gills and carried him up the bank.
“Look,” he called, “we came near losing him the last minute. He was off the hook when I caught him.”
“Oh, but he is a big one! Let me hold him a minute,” Ray pleaded. “The boys in Vermont would never believe that he was so big. What do you think he weighs?” [[110]]