“You needn’t be afraid of that!” cried Chap, as his two companions walked away. “I expect the fish here are not at all like those we caught before,” he said to himself, as he cut up some pieces of bait. “They seem to be different at every place we stop.”
Chap was a strange fellow. He liked his friends, and he was fond of company, but he was even more fond of entirely independent action.
“Now, then,” he said to himself, “I can go ahead and fish just as I please. I’m not quite sure that I’m always captain of this party, but one thing is certain, I can be captain of myself.”
CHAPTER IX.
FRIENDS AND ENEMIES.
Chap began his independent operations by poling The Rolling Stone to some distance from the shore. Then dropping the anchor and letting out the rope, he pushed his boat out as long as his pole would touch bottom.
There was not much current, but the wind blew the boat inland, so that Chap found that he would have to be continually pushing her out if he wished to keep her in water deep enough for fishing.
He was afraid to go out where he could not touch bottom with his pole, for the wind was strong, and he did not know what would happen if he tried to sail her.
So, at last, he gave up fishing and poled back to shore. Putting away his fishing tackle, he began to try to comfort the little bears, who were whining and whimpering and tumbling over each other, showing the greatest distress at being obliged to wait for their breakfast.
While thus engaged, there came down the river a dirty little boat, with a dirty little sail, in the stern of which sat two very untidy young men.