“Now, you’re thinking of trying those flies you brought along, on the bass they say inhabit that same lake, and of whopping size too,” Teddy jokingly remarked.
“Oh! I acknowledge the corn,” the other admitted, candidly; “because I do happen to be mighty fond of fishing at any and all times. If I can toss a fly, and get’em, so much the better; but if they won’t whiff at the feathered lure, why, then I turn to a frog, a minnow, artificial bait, a trolling spoon, and last, but not always least, the worm. I’m bound to get fish some way or other, if they’re to be had.”
“I wonder if we’ll meet up with him again?” mused Teddy, as he sank his paddle deep into the running water of the Manistique, and started the canoe up stream with a steady muscular push.
“Meaning our big friend, Gabe?” inquired the other, following suit on his side of the boat; while Amos was already some forty feet in the van, being a most accomplished waterdog, for he had spent half of his life swimming and paddling around.
“Yes, Gabe. You see he headed upstream, and that would mean he meant to keep on the same course we are following. I’d rather it was the other way; for after my shooting at him, I’m afraid he’ll feel uglier than ever toward us.”
“Let him,” remarked the good-natured Dolph, easily; “we’ve done nothing to him. Anybody would have a right to bang away, if they thought a bear or a cat was sneaking about the camp. And besides, he told us he was going off; so he couldn’t very well make out that we knew it was him creeping back. For one I’m going to forget all about Gabe, except that at night-times perhaps I’ll remember to keep one eye open for intruders that ain’t cats.”
“Too bad you didn’t have a chance to snap him off,” said Teddy. “He’d make a fine addition to the pictures you’re gathering, to show what happened to us on the trip.”
“Gabe happened, all right. And we ought to keep that coffee, to present to him if ever he shows up again,” Dolph went on to say, with a laugh. “I’d like to watch his face turn red, if it could get any more so than it is now, when he saw from our looks that we were on to his little wrinkle.”
“Why not get a line out as we go along?” Teddy asked. “You might pick up a trout or two with an artificial minnow. There are lots of likely places. Perhaps there are black bass here, too. Most of the rivers in Michigan are full of gamey fighters. I’ve taken them out of the St. Mary’s, that gave me all the fun anybody could ever want.”
“Oh! I’m not so greedy as all that, or so fish hungry, either. I like to attend to my rod when I’m fishing, and not trust to luck to have the trout or bass hook himself. Besides, I’ve got about as much as I want, keeping tabs of your paddling, and making out to match you every time. We can camp on the lake a few days, and I reckon I’ll have all the fishing I want.”