Roger was enjoying himself as he had hardly ever done before. Such royal fishing, and such game fighters made a combination that ought to have been sufficient to fill any boy’s heart with supreme joy, especially one so devoted to the sport as Roger had always been.
Dick did not lose his head over the wonderful success that was coming their way. Because Roger gave himself up so wholly to the excitement was a very good reason why Dick himself should do the watching for both of them.
And yet it seemed almost absurd to suspect that anything evil could be threatening them on that bright summer morning. The very insects seemed to hum more noisily than usual, as though with the pleasure of living on such a perfect day.
Dick often cast a side glance toward the Indian, but so far he had seen absolutely nothing suspicious in his manner. He seemed to be as happy as Roger, and kept close to the heels of the boy as he worked his long rod, and added constantly to the number of fish he was taking.
It seemed as though each one of the grubs was good for a fat trout, and so savagely did the fish snap at them that they were securely hooked in nearly every instance, so that the losses were next to nothing.
If things continued to go on as they were doing, they would soon be in possession of all the fish the camp could use. Roger even told his chum in a whisper that, unless they looked out, they would be unable to carry the whole of their taking back in one trip of the boat, though possibly that was only meant in the light of a boast.
Dick’s arms were beginning to ache on account of the strain on the muscles caused by raising so many heavy prizes over his head. He would have suggested that they had quite a large mess now, and perhaps had better go back to camp, allowing some of the others the pleasure of coming up later and trying their luck; but he knew Roger well enough to feel sure that the other would decline to quit fishing as long as a single grub remained.
At any rate, when the supply was really exhausted, Dick meant to decline to linger any longer, or to look for a new lot of bait.
For the moment the fish seemed to have stopped biting.
“We have only about six more grubs left, Dick,” said Roger, after examining the contents of the bait box, “and that ought to mean as many fish, if the Indian guide knows of still another good hole. I’m going to try to ask him. And, Dick, I promise you on my word of honor that I’ll agree to quit when we use up the last bait. I can see that you’re getting tired. You never were as crazy over the sport as I have always been.”