130 DAYS AMONG THE PIKE AND PERCH 



fight ; twice it leaps its length out of the water, and once 

 it runs at least thirty yards in one grand and glorious burst ; 

 but the fight is soon ended, and the Clipper's first victim 

 is duly honoured. 



All round from Carlton Ferry to the Sentry Box hole we 

 go, but pikey corners are not much in evidence, except in 

 one or two isolated places. This stretch of the river wakes 

 up old memories, and recalls old adventures. Many a 

 night during the long years I roamed those waters did I 

 snatch a few hours' fitful sleep, partly covered by a hay- 

 cock ; many a time I woke up and listened with strained 

 ears to the glorious song of the mock nightingale ; and 

 when his midnight summer song ceased for an instant, a 

 stone or a lump of earth hurled into his bush would cause 

 him to sing again with redoubled energy. Those were the 

 days of vigorous youth, when life was young, and we worried 

 not, so long as fish could be had for the catching, and 

 mates were good and true. 



We go along towards Meering Ferry and Button Holmes ; 

 but before crossing the ferry we will go round the bend a 

 little distance and try the slack corner among the flags 

 and willows that used to be there. We spin this place 

 carefully, as previous experiences have taught us to expect 

 something here. I have heard an old fisherman say that 

 this corner years and years before my time was always a 

 certain place for at least three or four pike. Its glories 

 evidently have waned, for try we ever so cunningly, it is 

 only after throwing many dozens of times that a jack, who 

 evidently in that clouded water cannot discriminate be- 

 tween metal and the real article, kicks up no end of a 

 bobbery because he has for once in a way made a mistake. 

 That Clipper sticks closer than a brother, even after he 

 has thrown it outside his mouth ; but the big red tassel- 

 ornamented treble hook is still inside, do as he will to get 

 rid of it. This fish, a good half-pound heavier than the 

 other, soon joins his comrade in the bag. 



There was a queer tale told about the village of Girton, 



