192 THE THOUSAND ISLES. 
made a fierce rush ; instantly the line slipped with a 
steady but slight strain through my finers, and he dashed 
off for some distance, but soon tired, he allowed me to 
pull him up to the side of the boat ; once there, grasping 
the wire above the hook, I lifted him quickly over the 
side and threw him on the bottom, where he flounced 
about vigorously and with energy enough, if exhibited 
sooner, to have broken almost any line. Taking the 
hook carefully by the shank, I twisted it out of his 
mouth, and weighing him with the scales that were 
always in my pocket, found he weighed ten pounds. 
Turning at the head of the little cove, we retraced 
our path and struck another fish, and so over and over 
again, some of them making violent but unavailing efforts 
to escape, others slapping oft' just as they were being 
lifted into the boat, others again coming in with their 
heads out of water like a yawl towed behind a steamboat. 
Sometimes it was the right-hand rod that bent, some- 
times the left, then the hand-line felt the strain — often 
two and sometimes all three at once ; it kept me busy, 
to say the least of it. The reels were of little use, as the 
boatman had to keep rowing to prevent the lines sinking 
to the bottom and catching in the weeds, which, in spite 
of all precautions they sometimes succeeded in doing, 
and the strain was consequently too great for them. 
The bottom of the boat was filled with the long-bodied, 
wolfish and ravenous devils, that snapped their jaws, 
struggled about, their eyes gleaming with impotent fury 
and merciless cruelty, as ngly looking a set as the sun 
ever shone upon ; but as they were brought in, one after 
another, my oarsman was delighted. 
