190 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



never telling the same one twice. What more can 

 one reasonably ask in an oarsman ? 



In earlier days he had lived in another part of 

 the state, and most of his alleged adventures were 

 localized on or near Clearwater Lake. As accu- 

 rately as we could compute, the fish which he 

 claimed to have caught in this one lake would have 

 been sufficient to cover the southern peninsula of 

 Michigan to a depth of seventeen feet, six inches, 

 and then leave some four hundred fish unused. 

 One of the most fascinating of his many de- 

 lightful yarns concerned his adventure with a giant 

 pickerel : 



" Cousin Jim Smith and I," the narrator began, 

 " were fishin' one lowery day on Clearwater Lake 

 in a cranky little boat, when Jim hooked on to a 

 pick'rel. The fish put up a tough fight and Jim 

 got excited and kept standin' up in the boat and I 

 a-yellin' to him to se'down. Bimeby Jim got 'im 

 into the boat, and then jumped up again, and over 

 we went. When I saw we were goin' I grabbed for 

 the line and got holt just above the spoon. That 

 pick'rel pulled and I hung on and he took me clear 

 to the bottom in eighteen foot of water. When we 

 got down there, I grabbed that fish with both hands, 

 tucked him under my left arm, gave a big spring 

 and shot up to the top of the water. What does 

 that pick'rel do as soon as we reached the top, 

 but slip out from under my arm and make for 

 the bottom again, me hangin' on to the line close 



