They began by chipping small pieces of ice, haphazard, from the center of a tiny circle. The guide instantly stopped them and declared such work would not do. He showed how to cut a circular groove through the ice, keeping all sides of the circle at an even depth until they were on the point of reaching the water; then a clean-cut disk of ice floated free and was pushed back out of the way.
“There’s a knack in everything, boys,” laughed Ben, straightening after he had cut the twelfth and last hole.
They unwound the fish-lines, placed a minnow on each hook, and dropped it into the water. At the same time Ben pushed a stick through the lath and placed it across the opening. Each end of the stick rested on the ice. The lath had its longer half resting on the ice, and its shorter end, from which dangled the line and hook, directly over the water.
Ben explained that when a fish jerked on the line it would pull the short end of the lath down and cause the other end to rise and give warning of a strike. He said such an arrangement was known as a “tip-up.” When the last hole had been baited and set, the anglers went ashore to wait. When one of the “tip-ups” bobbed into the air they were all to rush for it. The one who got there first and jerked out the fish would win that “heat.”
Suddenly Ben shouted, “There goes number three!” and off he started, with the boys in hot pursuit.
It was no easy matter to keep their feet while dashing at full speed over the glassy surface of the lake. Ed fell flat and slid along with his arms and legs outspread. By the time George reached the hole he was going so fast that he could not stop, and he slid past, vainly endeavoring to turn without falling. When Ed and George had recovered themselves, Ben had reached the opening and tossed a splendid pickerel on the ice.
“You fellows looked like spiders trying to run over a window-pane,” he laughed, as the boys came up puffing.
“Just wait until the next one!” George panted.
“There she goes!” cried Ed; and he made a wild dash for another hole.
George and Ben were right behind him, yelling at the top of their voices. When near the opening Ed thought the best way to stop would be to sit down and slide the remainder of the distance. He did so, but was unaware that his comrades were close behind him; and he was somewhat surprised when Ben went sailing over his head and George landed astride his back. There was a grand mix-up of arms and legs, as all of them tried to scramble to the hole. Finally Ed managed to crawl to the opening, where he jerked another pickerel from the water.