The Artist Goes A -Fishing 63 



feet away. Darkness was now at hand and. a young moon 

 in the sky. WilHam showed a Mississippi pilot's memory for 

 marks, deeps, and shoals, and performed such an excellent 

 job of navigation in the dark as caused Arthur to remark on 

 landing, that he stood in danger of arrest for piloting without 

 a license. The entire day's catch, ten trout and two gray- 

 ling, averaged two and one-quarter pounds, the heaviest, as 

 recorded, four pounds. 



And here the writer hereof sets it down, that if there is any 

 thrill greater than that of seeing a master of the gentle craft handle 

 and land a heavy fish, save perhaps that from doing the trick 

 oneself, he has yet to experience it. William's cast is an expression 

 of efficiency in the nth power. His rod goes back with an easy 

 sweep of the wrist, with no waste motion, the line unrolls 

 through the air and drops the fly at the destined spot easily 

 as a thistledown. By the results achieved, William's aphor- 

 ism, "Get your cast to working right and you'll catch fish," 

 is fully justified. 



Trout for supper. An overcast sky, a cheerful campfire, two 

 fisherman chaps in their to-be-continued-everlastingly card game, 

 the artist after a royal day sleepy as a tired pup, and with the 

 despatch of all fish more than the camp needed to Kerzenmacher, 

 the local postmaster, and a nearby ranch, so ends this day 

 all well. 



Saturday the twenty-sixth. 



The day was heavily overcast, with occasional breaks of sun 

 and a strong wind — a good time for sticking around camp and get- 

 ting away with the dozen or so trifling jobs that have been shifted 

 forward from day to day for an opportunity that would not trench 

 on possible sport. At any rate, so the morning passed. And 

 then it was decided that the artist should again go a-fishing, since 

 he seemed inclined to stick so close to his easel as to run a serious 

 chance of not getting any sport at all unless somebody woke him 

 up, and showed it to him. 



"Jimmy and I will take the boat," announced the colonel, 

 "and you'll walk. Art." 



"What do I want to walk for? I'd just as soon ride." 



"Not this time. You'll have to walk a dozen miles or so a 



