Finally just as Little Elk was about to give up, he heard his friend answering him from behind his father’s wigwam. “Why do you call so loudly, Little Elk?”
“Because my mother said that I could go fishing this day and I would like you, my friend, to go with me. I have a great deal of good fishing equipment, and there is still one canoe left at the shore of the great lake. Can you come with me?”
Quarter Moon thought for a moment, especially of the work he was supposed to do that day. Finally he said, “Wait, I will go and ask my mother.”
With that he disappeared into the wigwam and in a moment was out again, smiling.
“My mother says that I may go, but that I must be back when the sun has climbed to the highest point in the sky. For any day now, my father is expected back and I have not completed the chores he gave me to do when he left.”
“Come then,” said Little Elk. “We must hurry.”
The two boys ran to the lake shore and, after placing their fishing equipment in the canoe, they stepped in and pushed away from the shore.
“We will paddle along the shore,” said Little Elk.
The Indians of the Northeast made fishing tackle from young basswood saplings and made their hooks from bone. With these they were able to catch the mighty muskellunge of the northern waters and supplemented their fresh meat diet with lake fish.
The boys paddled for quite some time before they dropped their lines into the water. They had picked a good spot because in a matter of minutes they had several fish in the floor of the canoe. Suddenly, Little Elk noticed that the canoe had been drifting and he spoke to his friend about it.