ANGLING FOB BASS. 125 



we found the bed of our pilot's trout brook without a 

 particle of water. What aggravated our condition was 

 the intense heat of the sun. In about an hour, however, 

 we succeeded in reaching the Mississippi once more, and 

 there, comfortably seated in the shadow of a bluff, we 

 threw out our lines and awaited the arrival of the boat. 

 We happened to be in the vicinity of a deep hole, out of 

 which we brought five black bass, weighing three or four 

 pounds apiece. We did not capture a single trout, but 

 the sight of one immense fellow that I lost, agitated my 

 nerves. Something very heavy had seized my hook, and 

 after playing it for some minutes I was about to land it, 

 when I saw that it was a trout, (it must have weighed 

 some three pounds,) but making a sudden leap, it snap- 

 ped my line, and was, like a great many objects in this 

 world, entirely out of my rea ch ; and then I was the vic- 

 tim of a loud and long laugh. The only thing that kept 

 me from falling into a settled melancholy was the inci- 

 dent which immediately followed. When the boat came 

 along, a Frenchman who was a passenger, and happened 

 to have a canoe floating at the stern, volunteered his ser- 

 vices to take us on board the steamer. Knowing that 

 my friends had never been in a canoe before, I would not 

 embark with them, and in about two minutes I had the 

 pleasure of seeing them capsized, and after they had be- 

 come completely soaked, of Tseeing them rescued from all 

 danger minus the three fine bass which they had taken. 

 This feat was performed in the presence of quite a num- 

 ber of ladies, and to the tune of a hearty peal of laughtei. 



