The appearance of the young ladies called Owen away, and I announced to the passengers that they would want their fishing-gear in the course of half an hour. I had plenty of fishing-tackle of all sorts which I kept on board; and I knew that all the gentlemen in the cabin, unless it was Mr. Tiffany, were supplied with all the implements for fishing and shooting. Cornwood had procured a supply of bait while we were at dinner. The fasts were cast off, and we backed out into the river. Ben and Buck had returned, having made their prisoner fast to the railing of the pier, at the suggestion of Mr. Benedict, who said he would look out for him.
The steamer stopped when she was clear of the pier, and then went ahead. The pilot said he was perfectly familiar with the navigation of Doctor's Lake, having surveyed it in the service of the State. The water was very shallow near the shore, where we had broken through the bushes to its brink; but it was said to be very deep in many parts. I had read that the frequent passage of steamers over the waters of the St. Johns had driven the frightened fish into such places as Doctor's Lake. We entered its waters, and steamed several miles up the lake. Then the pilot rang the gong, and the vessel was soon at rest.
We baited our hooks, and dropped the lines into the lake. Miss Margie was the first to hook a fish. After a hard pull she got him to the top of the water. It was a catfish weighing twelve pounds. The Colonel and Owen were disgusted. A catfish is an exaggerated hornpout, or "bullhead." None but negroes eat them at the South.
CHAPTER XXIII.
TROLLING FOR BLACK BASS.
"The idea of fishing for catfish is absurd!" exclaimed Colonel Shepard. "It isn't a proper use to put a white man to."
"Don't fish so deep, then," suggested Cornwood. "The catfish live on the bottom."
I was as much disgusted with the idea of catching catfish as the Colonel, for I had seen plenty of them caught by the negroes on the wharves at Jacksonville. I took a good-sized spoon-hook, with three hundred feet of line attached to it, just as I had used it in Lake Superior, and cast the hook as far out into the water as I could. I trolled it home, and obtained quite a heavy bite. I tried it again, and this time hauled in a fish that would weigh six pounds.
"What's that, Mr. Cornwood?" I asked, as I brought the fish inboard.