“Silk. They drown the silkworm in vinegar, and then, cutting out the silk sac, take the two ends, and pull them apart. The silk, for a whole cocoon, is in a state of thick solution, and is thus pulled out into one of the many lengths which we tie to make a nine-foot leader.”
“How curious!”
Meanwhile, another leader was well soaked and adjusted, and Rose began anew. But, although she cast better, no more salmon rose, and, tired out, she gave up the rod. Mr. Lyndsay had no better luck, and, as it was close to lunch-time, they ran ashore to pick up their salmon, which Tom laid in the canoe and covered with ferns. Soon again the little vessel was in the strong current.
“There is no hurry, Tom,” said Lyndsay; and so the canoe, held straight by a guiding paddle, glided swiftly onward.
“It is perfect motion, Pardy,—at most, it has the ease and grace of flight.”
“It makes one envy the fish.”
“Ah, the dear things. I am so glad to be able to think it really does not hurt them.”
“Hurt ’em?” said Tom. “They likes it, else why’d they want it. They needn’t ’less they’re a mind to.”
CHAPTER III
