THE PIKE FROM THE DITCH. 13 



well I did so, for, tiring of futile journeyings 

 to and fro, he suddenly made a dash across. 

 But the strain I brought to bear was not to 

 be denied, and a broad back and vicious 

 looking head showed on the surface. Then, 

 with an angry sweep of the tail that churned 

 the water into foam, he was away again. The 

 lessened curve of the rod, however, told of 

 weakening strength, and soon I was able to 

 coax him to the side. Unslinging my gaff I 

 bent over to land him. Even now was I all 

 but undone, for, in the act of stooping, I had 

 carelessly allowed the line to slacken. A 

 sullen plunge, and the fish was out in mid- 

 stream, heading straight for the dreaded fringe 

 of weeds ! Only strong measures could avert 

 a disaster, and I spared neither rod nor line. 

 It sufficed. The gallant fight was ended, and 

 I lifted him on to the grass at my feet, a truly 

 handsome fish of I2lb., 9 oz.; 18 inches in 

 girth; and twice that in length. 



What need to tell of the two-mile walk, 

 in the dark back to the little country station 



