“No.” She reeled in furiously. The fish was coming toward her. Then he whirled about. As the line went taut again the fish leaped high out of the water.
“A pike or a muskie!” she murmured. “I must have him!”
A battle royal followed. Now the fish, yielding stubbornly yard by yard, approached the boat. Then, catching sight of her, he leaped away, making the reel sing.
Again she had him under control. Not for long. A raging demon fighting for freedom he was.
For fully a quarter of an hour she fought him until, quite worn out, he yielded, and a twenty pound muskie shot head foremost into her landing net.
“To think,” she exclaimed, “that I could come out to mull things over and should catch such a fish!
“Ah well, life’s that way. I come to think. I catch a fish. We come here seeking absolute quiet, and what do we find? Mystery, intrigue, and all that promises to keep us up late nights figuring out the next move on the checkerboard of life.”
CHAPTER V
THE GYPSY CHILD
In the meantime, accompanied by the lumbering bear, Petite Jeanne had followed a narrow way that led to the heart of the forest. At first her way was along a grass-grown road that narrowed to a path used in autumn by hunters. This path at last became only a trail for wild animals. In a soft marshy spot she came upon the clean-cut prints of a wild deer’s hoofs and the smaller marks of her fawn. There, too, she measured the footprints of a bear.
“A small, black brother of yours,” she said to Tico. The bear appeared to understand, for he reared himself on two legs to sniff the air and show his teeth.