“Yes, that’s what I’m aiming to do,” Buster admitted. “Just because I had the hard luck to be dragged overboard by a measly old log, don’t think I’m the one to be scared off. If there are any fish in this Danube River, and they like bait such as I can offer them, we’re bound to have a mess for breakfast.”
“Hurrah! That’s the ticket!” cried Josh; “if at first you don’t succeed try, try again. I plainly perceive that my honors as boss fisherman are going to be put in peril if this thing keeps on. I’ll sure have to get out a line myself, and run you a race, Buster.”
“Wish you would,” snapped the other, as though this just suited him.
“You remember,” continued Josh, “we had some pretty tall rivalry in that line once or twice before. Never mind who came out first best; that’s ancient history, and pretty musty by now. You find enough worms and I’ll get a rig ready, Buster.”
George rubbed his hands as though the prospect looked pretty bright to him. With two ardent anglers engaged in a warm contest to see who could do the better in the way of making captures, those who loved fresh fish might expect to be well taken care of.
When the supper had been disposed of, and every one declared he felt “full to the brim,” Buster secured the little camp hatchet they had been wise enough to fetch along with them, and which had been a useful adjunct on many past outings.
With this in hand he started to attack some of the old stumps that could be seen scattered around. Josh felt considerable interest in his labors, as from time to time he could be heard calling out, and asking what the score was.
“Got three dandies in that stump,” Buster presently made answer, “and here’s a whole nest of bigger ones than the others. Say, we’re fixed all right, my friend, so far as plenty of attractive bait goes. I can see a lovely time among the finny tribes when some of these fat boys get in the drink. They’ll actually fight among themselves for a chance to bite; especially if you spit on your hook after impaling the grub.”
By the time he had placed a full dozen of the victims of his hunt in the little can that had contained sardines at one time, Buster pronounced himself ready to begin serious operations.