“Here, try un,” and Andy surrendered the line to Indian Jake, just as the line gave a mighty tug.
“Why, you’ve got a fish on there!” exclaimed Indian Jake. “He’s as big as a porpoise, too, whatever he is!”
Vastly excited, the lads watched Indian Jake manipulate the line, drawing the fish nearer and nearer the hole.
“He’s most t’ th’ hole!” cried David, no less excited than Andy. “Watch out now! Watch, now! You’re gettin’ he, Jake!”
“There he is!” shouted Andy, when, a moment later, the head of an immense fish appeared at the end of the line in the water hole.
“Here!” directed Jake. “You lads take th’ line and hold steady! Don’t jerk; just keep a steady pull! Don’t let it slip back any!”
David and Andy seized the line as directed, and held tight. Indian Jake, regardless of the cold, threw off his right mitten, drew his sheath knife from his belt, and leaning far over the hole drove it with a hard, quick blow into the top of the fish’s head. Then flinging the knife out upon the ice, he plunged his hand into the water, slipped his fingers under the gills of the fish, and drew it out upon the ice. Then without a moment’s delay he thrust his hand under his adiky to dry it, and prevent its freezing.
“That’s one of ’em,” he said coolly. “That’s a namaycush, and a forty pounder if he’s anything.”
Of course Andy was proud, though he did not claim all the credit of catching the big namaycush. The glory of such a fish was quite enough, in his estimation, to be distributed among the three.
“Now we’ll have fish for half th’ winter, whatever!” he declared.