Bill walked a distance upstream and started to fish. He picked out a place on the bank where the bushes were low and sufficiently open for him to try casting. At first he had nothing but grief. His line became tangled in the bushes and overhanging branches from the trees. It kept him busy for quite some time disentangling his line. Once it was so badly tangled that he had to cut off part of it. Finally he managed to get it out on the water, but it landed with a splash and then only a short distance from the river bank.
The more he tried, the worse it seemed, and then he managed to make a good cast. His fly landed thirty feet or more out in the water. It had no sooner struck the water than a small trout grabbed the hook. Bill had a real thrill as he reeled the fish in. He brought it in so that he could see it swimming around in the water. Then evidently he became over-anixous, for he tried to throw it out on the bank, but instead jerked the fish loose and it was gone.
Later when he looked at his watch and saw that it was time to return, he had four small trout in his creel. He wound up his line as he walked back to the automobile. Long before he arrived he saw the smoke from a fire. Cecil was already starting lunch.
“How many did you get?” asked Cecil.
“Four,” replied Bill. “How many did you get?”
“The limit,” said Cecil. “Some of them are fair-sized fish. Some of them not so large, but just the right size for eating. Have you ever built a fire in the woods according to the approved method, which eliminates all possibility of starting a forest fire?”
“No, I never have,” replied Bill.
“You should know how,” said Cecil. “You are going to stay here in the woods for a while and it may save you a lot of trouble. I will show you now.”
CHAPTER III—WOOD LORE
“Here comes Bob,” said Bill Bruce as they walked toward the campfire. “I wonder if he had any more luck than I did.”