THE RAIL FAMILY 139 



be hard to please. There the fish are, and the 

 interesting fact is known not only to myself, but 

 also to one or two friends still living. We once 

 tried our best to range that particular piece of 

 quake-belt, but failed completely. 



It must not be supposed that these large fish are 

 very often captured, even when known to hover in 

 certain places, and when tried for by men who are 

 and have been past-masters in all pertaining to fur, 

 feather, or fin. The fish are very fastidious as to 

 their food, for one thing, and also as to the exact 

 spot where they have their home, and they wait for 

 their prey to come to them. One of the largest trout 

 that I knew was caught under two rough planks 

 that carried over a stream in some water meadows ; 

 and the last pike that came under my notice, a 

 fellow of twelve pounds weight, was caught in a 

 bit of pure spring-water no larger than a duck- 

 pond, and close to a railway station ; in fact the 

 embankment formed one part of its boundary. Just 

 where you least expect to meet with things, there 

 you do meet with them. This is the rule, not the 

 exception, in the things concerning wild life. 



When the little black, downy chicks are out, 

 both their parents have a most anxious time of it, 

 for pike, trout, eels, and snakes are on the watch 

 for them, as well as for the other young water-fowl, 

 as they run over the water-lily and candock leaves. 

 There is just a little tremor as the little chicks run 

 over those floating leaves, and then the fierce fish 

 below work their fins in eager expectancy, and they 



