ARROW-FISHING. 57 



The rippling brook, as it dauces along in the sun- 

 shine, bears with it the knowledge, there is truthfulness 

 in water, though it be not in a well. We can find 

 something, if we will, to love and admire under every 

 wave ; and the noises of every tiny brook are tongues 

 that speak eloquently to nature's true priests. 



We have marked, that with the rise of the waters, 

 the fish grow gregarious, and that they rush along in 

 schools icith the waters that flow itilayid from the river, 

 — they thus choose these temporary sylvan lakes as 

 depositories of their spawn ; thus wittingly providing 

 against that destruction that would await their young, 

 in the highways of their journeyings. 



It is a sight to wonder at, in the wilds of the primi- 

 tive forest, to see the fish rushing along the narrow in- 

 lets, with the current, in numbers incredible to the im- 

 agination, leaping over the fallen tree that is only half 

 buried in the surface of the stream, or stayed a moment 

 in their course by the meshes of the strong net, either 

 bursting it by force of numbers, or granting its wasteful 

 demands by thousands, without seemingly to diminish 

 the multitude, more than a single leaf taken from the 

 forest would perceptibly alter the vegetation. 



We have marked, too, that these fish would bcsport 

 themselves in their new homes, secluding themselves in 

 the shadows of the trees and banks ; and, as the sum- 

 mer heats come on, they would grow untjuiet ; the out- 

 lets leading to tlio uroat river thev had left would be 

 3* 



