144 L1NES IN PLEASANT PLACES 



Little by little the line was shortened, and the battle, 

 so far as the rod and line went, was virtually won. 

 Aching by this time in every limb, I welcomed the yellow- 

 brown back when it came to the surface a few yards 

 from the canoe. But here was another difficulty. How 

 was the fish to be got into the boat ? I could see now 

 that it was certainly twenty pounds, and A. confessed 

 that he had never used the gaff. Ben was out of the 

 question, having his oars to look after, and even if 

 he had been free the position would not allow me to 

 bring the fish up to him. The gaff was strong and 

 big, and it was furnished with a rank barb, generally a 

 detestable implement in my estimation. 



Yet it proved our salvation. The gaff handle, I 

 should state, was tapered the wrong way that is to 

 say, it was smaller at the end where it should have 

 afforded some sort of grip to the hand. A. slipped 

 the barbed affair into the body with great adroitness, 

 but he had no experience of the strength of such cus- 

 tomers, and at the mighty plunge it made the gaff 

 slipped out of his hands, and I had my fish (with the 

 added weight of wood and steel) once more on my 

 conscience. 



Fortunately the tension on the line had not been 

 relaxed. A. remained cool ; Ben ordered him to seize 

 my line. " I'll knock him out of the boat if he does," 

 was the shout of another of the party, with a dulcet 

 aside, " Lay hold of the gaff, old chap ; we'll have him 

 yet." And we did have him ; A. leaned over, grasped 

 the stick, hoisted the fish, kicking furiously, out of the 

 water, and deposited it amongst our feet, where, in the 

 confined space, there was for awhile an amusing con- 

 fusion. Ben had a " priest " under his thwart, and 

 by and by I found a chance for a straight smite at the 

 back of the neck. The 'lunge received his coup dt grace. 



