PICKEREL-FISHING IN WINTER. 189 



unused to guile ! Ah, there comes the live bait ! 

 Now we shall have them ! Quick, Johnny, be live- 

 ly ! Too much time lost already ! There ! Thun- 

 der ! They don't seem to notice the difference. 

 Not a flag rises. Well, we are all getting hungry, 

 and lunch is proposed, to which no one objects ; 

 when, just as the baskets are opened, and all are 

 gathered about them, up goes a flag, and five pair 

 of legs run quickly to the spot, and our first prize 

 is landed on the ice. 



Isn't he a beauty? Hall soon extemporizes a 

 pond in which we deposit our darling ; and we re- 

 sume our feast, attended by the " knowledgeous " 

 boy, whose early education in the matter of eating 

 had evidently not been neglected. An ice-cutter, 

 engaged on a distant part of the pond, a ragged, 

 unkempt genius, also favored us with his company, 

 and chopped down a few trees for our fire, in 

 regular backwoodsman style. We were not obliged 

 to board him however, as he procured his dinner 

 from one of the trees he cut down, which consisted 

 of a quantity of overgrown black ants (fact) , which 

 he seemed to relish hugely. We had heard of such 

 a diet among the Digger Indians, but hardly ex- 

 pected to see it in Norfolk County. Being desirous 

 of knowing where this uncouth specimen was born 

 and reared, I interviewed him to that effect. 



