"Wait till you see the beauty I am going to snatch out from under that log in less than a minute after I drop in my hook," said the latter, who carried his open knife in his hand, and was looking about among the bushes for a pole to take the place of the split bamboo he had left at home. "But you needn't grumble, young man. You may see the day when you will be willing to tramp farther than this to have the pleasure of depositing a single trout in your creel."
"When things get as bad as that I won't go trout-fishing," said Bob, in reply. "I'll take it out on black bass in the lake. Besides, these trout are not at all high-toned. They don't know enough to take a fly, and there's no fun in fishing with any other bait."
"We're not looking for fun now; we're after our dinner," answered Tom, who, having found a pole to suit him, was kicking the bark off a decayed log in search of a grub to put on his hook. "Would it inconvenience you to stir around and get a fire going? You might as well have your scales ready, too; there's a trout under that log that weighs about— There he is!"
Sure enough, there he was.
While Tom was speaking he dropped his hook into the water, and before the white grub on it had sunk out of sight, it was seized by a monster trout, which turned and started for the bottom with it, only to find himself yanked unceremoniously out of his native element, and by a dexterous movement of his captor's wrist, landed at Bob's feet on the opposite bank.
"I haven't elbow-room for any display of science in handling fish," said Tom, as his companion unhooked the prize and quieted his struggles by a blow on the head with the handle of his heavy knife. "Main strength and awkwardness are what do the business in these tangled thickets. What do the scales say in regard to his weight?"
"A pound and nine ounces," replied Bob. "Now suppose you hand over that pole and see if I can catch one to match him."
Tom, who was quite willing to comply, jumped across the brook and set to work to kindle a fire and get the dinner going, while Bob took the rod and threaded his way through the thick bushes toward another promising hole which his friend told him of, farther up the stream.
He was not gone more than twenty minutes, and when he came back he brought with him three trout, one of which was larger and heavier than Tom's.