110 THROUGH GASA LAND. 



Giving the unknown the butt, placing as much 

 check on my line as I dared to, seemed to serve no 

 good purpose ; the fish, or whatever it was, went as 

 it liked and came as it chose. " There was no 

 ' darned ' nonsense about it, it knew its rights and 

 privileges, and was bound to have them, for it was 

 a true republican fish, in spite of ' johnny Bull ' 

 claiming one half of the river," as a " down Easter" 

 once remarked to me, when fast in a large mus- 

 canonge, while fishing among the Thousand Islands 

 of the St. Lawrence. 



Now my present foe, though less active than the 

 American, had a way of its own that was most con- 

 iirmatory of its power and resolution. I could not 

 help feeling a certain amount of timidity that my 

 hook would break, and little could its maker have 

 been to blame if such had occurred, for who on 

 earth could contemplate the ordeal it was being put 

 to ; but this mischance did not take place, the metal 

 proved itself well tempered, and quite equal to the 

 emergency. I commenced to feel fatigued, for there 

 was no excitement in my work, only a constant dead, 

 heavy drag. The heat had now become oppressive, 

 the breeze had exhausted itself, and the mosquitoes 

 had forgotten their lethargy, so I hoped with no little 

 impatience that Sunday would return, but that worthy 

 seemed in no hurry to put in an appearance. An 

 hour thus passed — an hour that appeared to have 

 far more than sixty minutes in it — when I was hailed 



