With the skill of a born fisherman, the young soldier made his cast, and as the still buzzing fly struck the water, he whipped it along by jerks, a few inches at a time.
Of a sudden there came a splash, the appearance and disappearance of something that might be a fish, and then a strong pull on the line.
“Hurrah, you’ve got him!” cried Dave. “Be careful how you play him, or he’ll break your line for you.”
“Yes, I’ve got him!” answered Henry, slowly and deliberately, playing his line as he spoke. “And he’s no small one either. If only those roots don’t tangle——Here he comes! Whoop!”
As the youth spoke, the fish made another dart. But Henry was ready for him, and in a twinkling the game lay on the moss between the trees, flopping wildly in an endeavor to get back into the lake. But both youths knew too much to let anything like that happen, and in a minute more Henry had his prize secure and strung on a twig with a forked end.
“What a fine haul for a start,” was Dave’s comment, as he gazed at the trout, that weighed several pounds. “I don’t believe we’ll get another fish as good.”
“No, and I don’t believe there is another trout in this vicinity, Dave. A big fellow like this keeps his territory to himself.”
Nevertheless, Henry tried his luck, not once but several times. But the flies went begging until some small fish came along and began to nibble at them, and then Henry drew in.
“That spot just below here ought to be good for perch,” said he, after a look around, and they moved on to the place mentioned, where both baited with worms dug up before starting on the trip.
Dave was the first to throw in, and his cousin waited until the bait was taken with a sudden short jerk. Dave pulled in steadily, and soon brought to light a perch as round and fat as one would wish to see.