68 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUXTER. 



reeking water from its scaly sides falling in soft spray 

 upon the upturned eye that traces its daring course. 

 But we treat of fish, and not of birds. 



Yonder is our canoe ; the paddle has stopped it 

 short, just where you see those faint bubbles ; the water 

 is very deep beneath them, and reflects the frail bark 

 and its occupants, as clearly as if they were floating in 

 raid air. The bowman looks into the water — the flsh 

 are out of sight, and not disturbed by the intrusion 

 above them. They are eating busily, judging from the 

 ascending bubbles. 



The bowman lets fall the " heel " of his arrow on 

 the bottom of the canoe, and the bubbles instantly cease. 

 The slight tap has made a great deal of noise in the 

 water, though scarcely heard out of it. There can be 

 seen rising to the surface a tremendous carp. How qui- 

 etly it conies upwards, its pectoral flns playing like the 

 wings of the sportive butterfly. Another moment, and 

 the cold iron is in its body. 



Paralyzed for an instant, the fish rises to the surface 

 as if dead, then, recovering itself, it rushes downwards, 

 until the cord that holds it prisoner tightens, and 

 makes the canoe tremble ; the eftbrt has destroyed it, 

 and without another struggle it is secured. 



When the fish first come into the lakes, they move in 

 pairs on the surface of the water, and while so doing 

 they are shot, as it is called, " flying." 



In early spring fifteen or twenty fish arc secured in 



