240 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



form of a predatory sucker came so near to him. 

 Not that he appeared much like a bully in those first 

 hours of conscious existence. In fact he looked 

 more like an animated sliver with a sack suspended 

 from underneath. He moved slowly about the 

 stream in company with a hundred or so other little 

 fellows until the sack had disappeared, and then it 

 was easy to see that he had the advantage of all 

 his comrades in the matter of size at least. 



When they began feeding upon the tiny forms 

 of life found in the creek, the Bully soon gained a 

 reputation for pugnaciousness. He did not hesitate 

 to crowd his best friend away from a larva, and, 

 before he was an inch long, he had bitten the left 

 pectoral fin from one of his comrades who had ven- 

 tured to resist the Bully's attempt to rob him of a 

 luscious little snail that he had discovered. One 

 day when the Bully was yet a fingerling he joined 

 battle with a chub twice his size, and, although he 

 lost a part of his tail in the fray, and all the specta- 

 tors thought he was whipped before the conflict had 

 fairly begun, the thought of giving up never oc- 

 curred to him, and he fought until his foe turned 

 tail and fled into the river, a quarter of a mile 

 away. 



He was still living in the brook and had come 

 to be almost four inches in length when he had 

 an experience that shook his nerves somewhat. 

 As he was resting beside a sod a little worm, all 

 bent out of shape, but undeniably of the vermes 



