248 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



sembled the boy who had given him so much trouble 

 years before, only much larger. Even then he 

 would not give up without an effort, and, summon- 

 ing all his strength, he gave a mighty squirm and 

 escaped out of his captor's hands. He struck on 

 the gravel, gave two or three tremendous leaps and 

 was in water again, free. 



The Bully had grown to be the biggest trout in 

 all that stretch of water, and his under jaw pro- 

 truded as far and was quite as hooked as had been 

 that of his vanquished enemy of the pond. An 

 August morning found him well up the river in 

 the dense woods where the water was cool and food 

 was abundant. He had found a place where the 

 water was some four feet deep, and a fallen tree- 

 top made the finest kind of a hiding-place. Just 

 above him was a clear space some two feet in 

 diameter where now and then he could take a bug 

 or a foolish miller. Lying at his ease, he thought 

 with satisfaction of his numerous victories over 

 other trout and of his good fortune in escaping 

 those strange beings which prowled along the shore 

 and threw enticing flies or worms into the stream. 

 Just then but, before we tell of this incident, we 

 must bring in another story. That morning four 

 men had broken camp some miles down the stream 

 and started on a sixteen-mile tramp back into the 

 woods, where they were to spend a month on the 

 shore of a lake, fishing and hunting. The duffle 

 was piled upon a rude sled drawn along the trail 



