The Best of the Bass 139 



heave this over is the work of a moment, and as 

 the fragments fall apart three or four fat white grubs 

 are revealed. I impale one of these and cast it to 

 the edge of the shadowed water. Whether the bait 

 is actually pitched into a bass's mouth is problem- 

 atical. It certainly looks that way. A strike so 

 savage as to make me fairly jump, and the fight is 

 on. This is the best of the bass ! With a rush he 

 goes for his lair, and with a twitch I plant the steel 

 and feel it take hold. A second's breathless pause, 

 and then the royal fellow realizes what has happened. 

 Whiz ! and he is away like an arrow, while the silk 

 hums through the guides, and the reel voices a 

 startled shriek. Well I know there is no fray any- 

 where, so gradually the check is put on. Tense as 

 wire stands the silken tether, while the rod arches 

 till it seems as if something surely must give way. 

 Five anxious seconds then whish ! up he comes 

 fairly into the sunshine. A gleam of bronzy mail, a 

 bristle of angry fins, a patter of falling drops, and 

 plunk! he has gone. But not far. Wise man 

 never yanked at fish like this, so instinctively I have 

 eased him down and away upon his second run. 

 A fierce zigzagging, a worrying, backward pulling, 

 a vain effort to bore to the log below, another dash, 

 then up he comes again. 



Have you seen him the length and the breadth 

 and the mad of him and is this business, or is 

 it not better than pawing coin or thumbing bills ? 

 The dog is a picture. He stands trembling with 

 excitement, his blazing eyes following every move- 

 ment. As the fish leaps he stiffens in every fibre ; 

 as it falls back his muscles slacken to the fear that 



