208 LOCUSTS AND WILD HONEY 



ever experienced. I had been a fisher from my ear- 

 liest boyhood. I came from a race of fishers ; trout 

 streams gurgled about the roots of the family tree, 

 and there was a long accumulated and transmitted 

 tendency and desire in me that that sight gratified. 

 I did not wish the pole in my own hands; there 

 was quite enough electricity overflowing from it and 

 filling the air for me. The fish yielded more and 

 more to the relentless pole, till, in about fifteen 

 minutes from the time he was struck, he came to the 

 surface, then made a little whirlpool where he dis- 

 appeared again. 



But presently he was up a second time, and lash- 

 ing the water into foam as the angler led him toward 

 the rock upon which I was perched net in hand. 

 As I reached toward him, down he went again, and, 

 taking another circle of the pool, came up still more 

 exhausted, when, between his paroxysms, I carefully 

 ran the net over him and lifted him ashore, amid, 

 it is needless to say, the wildest enthusiasm of the 

 spectators. The congratulatory laughter of the loons 

 down on the lake showed how even the outsiders 

 sympathized. Much larger trout have been taken 

 in these waters and in others, but this fish would 

 have swallowed any three we had ever before caught. 



"What does he weigh? " was the natural inquiry 

 of each; and we took turns "hefting" him. But 

 gravity was less potent to us just then than usual, 

 and the fish seemed astonishingly light. 



"Pour pounds," we said; but Joe said more. So 

 we improvised a scale: a long strip of board was 



