"All right," said Old Bob the gardener, "but he can't go in the basket with the regular fish. And now we'll go ashore and cook some of our catch for our luncheon."
"How can we make a fire, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim. "Everything's wet."
"That's easy," said Bob, "I'll go over in the woods and gather some birch bark, and you may pick up some small twigs that will dry quickly, and pile them on that flat rock by the water's edge."
It took only a few minutes for Buddy Jim to gather a big pile of the small dead twigs and branches, and then he sat down on another rock to look at his big eel and think about the fun it had been to land him.
There was no sound at all except the gentle splashing of the rain, when Buddy Jim heard soft footsteps, and then voices. "Now, isn't that a shame?" said a voice. "Some one has been catching our fish again, right out of our own lake!"
"Ssh, Children," said an older voice, "keep quiet—some one may hear you. They have gone away and left the basket open, and I will go and get the fish back again. Just wait here and keep quiet."
Buddy Jim kept quiet, because he very much wished to know which Little Neighbor it was; so quiet indeed, that Mrs. American Mink came fully into sight before she saw him. Buddy Jim knew her at once, because her picture was in one of his Nature books; and he knew also that she is very fond of fish to eat.
She was very much surprised when she saw Buddy Jim and immediately tried to look just like a bit of brown earth, but Buddy Jim spoke, and she knew she had been seen.
"How do you do, Little Neighbor," said he, "and what can I do for you?"