Pud stopped paddling and they soon fished up his rod from the bottom of the lake.
"You're lucky," said Mr. Waterman. "Remember that rods do not grow on bushes up here. If you're tipped over again, hold on to your rod. Paste that right in your hat and remember it."
"I won't forget it," said Pud. "I'll be back again when I get some dry clothes on. I'm going to catch a fish this morning if I have to dive for one."
"You dive enough already," said Joe in his serious way.
Bob and Mr. Waterman paddled off and it was not long before Bob had landed his first trout. It was a beauty, about eighteen inches long and weighing about two pounds. In another hour he had seven in his basket and was getting more skillful each time.
"Suppose you paddle and let me fish for a while," said Mr. Waterman at last.
"Good," said Bob. "I'll be glad to see you do it."
"You won't see anything extraordinary," said Mr. Waterman. "I just want to show you a few things though. We've kept out in open water. Well, the best place for trout is near the shore, under overhanging branches, near rocks or trees that have fallen into the lake. If I had brought you to such places at first you would probably have lost half your tackle. But, to be a good fisherman, you must not only know how to cast, but you must be able to cast accurately."
Bob then followed Mr. Waterman's directions and paddled close to the shore. With unerring aim, Mr. Waterman cast the fly almost to the desired inch. It seemed uncanny to Bob, but trout after trout was hooked and played with a master hand. Only one got away, due to no fault of Mr. Waterman.
"We've caught plenty," said Mr. Waterman at last. "I guess we won't starve for a couple of days."