“Do you feel strong enough?” said Brace anxiously.
“I am getting stronger every day. There, take the guns with you and try and knock over a few ducks. I’ve noticed several fly up the river since we’ve been here.”
“All right,” said Brace. “We’ll try to get some for the cook.”
“And I say, squire,” cried the captain, “when I was a boy, whenever I got a chance I was off fishing, and I learned from experience that the best place, and where the fish gathered most to feed upon what came down a river, was just where the water fell below a weir.”
“Yes,” said Brace; “I should think that would be the best place for fishing.”
“Well, then, as the old saying goes, ‘A nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse.’ You don’t want me to tell you that you’re going to sail to a great natural weir of rock, up to which the fish from hundreds and hundreds of miles of big river swim in great shoals to feed.”
“You mean that we should take some tackle with us?”
“That’s right, and, by Jingo, the very thought of it makes me want to come with you and have a try.”
“Come, then,” cried Brace, “and have a good day’s sport with us.”
“Nay, nay, nay, my lad: duty first, pleasure after. I’ve got to put out anchors and see to the provisioning of that boat.”