Bobby Bear was very proud to be carrying the worms. After they had gotten almost a hundred they had put some soft, moist earth on top, so you could see no worms. If you hadn't known they were there, you'd have thought the can had nothing but dirt.
It wasn't nearly as far to the river as it had been to the cornfield. Bobby was glad of this.
They found a nice, mossy bank to sit on. Bobby Bear rested while his father got two poles. Taking the lines from his pocket, he tied one to each of the fish poles and there they were, all ready to fish.
"What do you do, father?" asked the boy-bear. "How do you know when you have a fish on the line?"
His father answered, "First, we bait the hooks; that is, we put a worm on each of our hooks, so when it hangs dangling in the water the fish jump at it.
"They, of course, don't know there's a hook inside. They think it's a regular worm. When they pull at the worm you must jerk your rod ever so little. This is so you will catch the hook in the fish's mouth. He struggles to get away, and you pull him in.
"There's one thing I want to be sure of, that is, that you don't let the pole fly out of your hand. So, I'll tie it to your wrist."
They started fishing. Father Bear got a bite. He pulled his pole up quickly. No fish—but a clean hook. So he put another worm on, threw the line in, and waited.
This time when the fish bit Father Bear was too quick for it, and in a moment he had it up on the bank.
Bobby was all eagerness now. He wanted to catch a fish too.