RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 159 



Suddenly the madam starts, quickly passes me 

 the rod, with the remark that " something's on the 

 line." 



Sure enough ; the whiz of the reel, that ever- 

 musical sound, tells the story : he has hooked him- 

 self, firmly let us hope, but most likely otherwise. 



I am ready for him, and it is a fair fight now. 

 Oh ! there's a leap for you, fully four feet clear from 

 the water, another and another ; the reel whizzes, 

 and the line lengthens. And now, my boy, walk 

 this way, please : no ? well, have your own way, 

 then, for a while. 



And he had it till at last tired, quite tired out 

 with his rushing and leaping, he submits to his fate, 

 allows himself to be reeled to the canoe's side, the 

 net is deftly slipped beneath him, and he is safely 

 landed. 



Not so ; for when, taking him from the net, I told 

 Joe to hold him up for the madam's inspection, 

 which he < did, when the reviving fish made one 

 more successful leap over the side of the birch into 

 his native element. 



He was a handsome fish, fully two pounds in 

 weight, and Joe felt a bit ashamed at his loss ; but 

 we didn't care, for we were assured of plenty of 

 sport, and we had it. 



After a few moments' casting; I. struck a pair, and 



