“How dreadful to be old and have to leave home and go and live in a poorhouse, when you’ve owned all this!” said Anne, stretching out her arms, and Miss Letty, looking up, suddenly saw a big tear roll off the end of Anne’s nose; for to her home was heaven, and the thought of any one’s being driven from theirs seemed unbearable.
At that minute Miss Jule, with a flop, jumped quickly back from the edge of the pond, landing in some alder bushes, and with finger to her lips as a sign for silence, pointed to an object in the water. It was a monster pickerel, the dreaded ogre for whom all little bass, perch, and trout are taught to “watch out” as soon as they know enough to wiggle their tails and swim. Lazily it nosed along in the deep shadows, all unconscious of the excitement it was causing on shore.
“I wish I could grasp it,” whispered Miss Letty, the sporting spirit seizing her.
“Yes, and perhaps lose your fingers; Obi nearly did once,” said Anne.
“Bring me the little rifle from the brake. It’s not the right way to catch fish, but I’ll make an exception for this old cannibal,” said Miss Jule, while Anne needed no second telling, darted off and was quickly back again.
The rifle, a repeater, was soon in her hands, and as Miss Jule loaded it, she told the girls to stand back, and asked Anne to put the landing net they had brought for the bass that did not bite, close beside her. The pickerel crossed the sun streak once more. Bang! only one shot was needed. Miss Jule dropped the rifle, seized the net, and a pickerel weighing fully eight pounds lay upon the moss.
The other girls came up upon hearing the noise, and the men who had charge of the horses, all being surprised at the size of the fish.
“We will have it for luncheon, if Martin will clean it for us. I only hope that Mr. Hugh will come in time to enjoy it,” said Miss Jule.
Martin was one of Baldy’s brothers; and he not only cleaned the fish nicely, but cutting it in quarters, spread it open for broiling with a clever arrangement of sweet birch twigs, and also made a grill between two rocks, filling it with charcoal, a bag of which he had brought for the gypsy fire Mr. Hugh had promised to build.
“Cousin Hugh says that he is going to put up some sort of a little lodge on this new land, with a big fireplace, so that people can come here and have tea, and see the birds and things, even in winter; and in summer it will be convenient to have it to go into if showers come up. He said, too, that he would have some one live in it to be a sort of game-keeper and prevent pot-hunters from killing the birds.”