THE BOOK OF THE PIKE 



on that of the fish. He did the fighting, I sat and held 

 the rod. Even if he did the fighting, I could see that he 

 was tiring, a matter for which I think I was sufficiently 

 thankful. 



In time I began to catch glimpses of his white belly 

 through the waves as he rolled with them, and I was 

 glad; for we were approaching the shore, and I only 

 prayed that the boat might remain afloat until I reached 

 shallow water. And Fates, the Red Gods, whatever 

 you please, were on my side that day. The fish was 

 not destined to escape, and I was. Suddenly I could 

 catch glimpses of the sand, and with a great shout of 

 relief I stepped out into the waist-deep water and 

 started for the shore, the fish lunging and plunging 

 behind. It was not a very satisfactory, a very sports- 

 manlike finish, but the tackle was good and the fish 

 unusually big. I just run him up on the sloping bank, 

 where I literally fell upon him and held him down 

 while I sent the quieting shot into his brain. The 

 fight was over, the fish mine. My boat came in, 

 a-swash, it is true, but with all my paraphernalia safe, 

 though soaked. 



Eagerly I fished out my scales, shook the water out 

 of them, and lifted the great fish up. With astonish- 

 ment and gratification I gazed upon the marker — 

 293^ pounds. It must be written out in capital let- 

 ters — TWENTY-NINE AND ONE-HALF POUNDS! , That, tOO, 



after I had written "The Book of the Pike." Do you 

 wonder, reader, that this story finds a place in the 

 appendix ? Surely you will agree with me that without 

 the story of the undoing of my largest great pike, this 

 volume would be incomplete. ^ 



196 



