Both his young friends had long since decided that that machine was designed for "catching minnies," but now its round loop was skillfully thrust under the exhausted fish, as he allowed himself to be dragged alongside. No strain on the slender line. Only a quick, easy "lift," and then a beauty of a trout, more than a pound in weight, lay flopping on the bottom of the Ark.
"Whoop! hurrah!"
"Isn't he a buster?"
"Just look at his spots, Quill."
"We never catch 'em, 'cause they feed on flies, and you have to scoop 'em in."
"Now, boys, more fun."
They were ready for it, and there was plenty of it all the way to Pawg. The trout were biting freely, and every eddy and circling pool on which the interesting stranger's flies alighted yielded up its share of glittering spoil.
"This is your lake? Upon my word, it's a pretty one. There's an island right out in the middle. Boys, we must go and discover that island. It'll be a good place to eat our lunch in. Did you know it was about time for seamen like us to eat something? It hadn't occurred to me before, but I am as hungry as a bear!"