CHARLES GUYON. 171 



pounds huge to me. "There's your buffalo/' said he. 

 I looked at the great, ungainly fish, with a hump on 

 its back and a mouth like a sucker, and asked if it was 

 good to eat. 



"Oh, yes; it's better than red-horse, but not as good 

 as bass and pike. Here, you take the gig and I'll pad- 

 dle. Now you've got to put the gig into the fish, and not 

 in the place he looks to be at. If he's nearly under you 

 throw right at him, always with the gig across his body 

 and not in line with him. The further he is away the 

 more you must throw under him, because he's deeper 

 than he looks to be. You know how a board appears to 

 be bent when half of it is in the water; the lower end 

 seems to be higher than it is. Well, it's just so with a 

 fish; unless he's right under you he's deeper than he 

 looks, and the further off he is the deeper under him you 

 must strike." 



I took the gig, with some doubt of my ability to 

 gauge the depth of a fish and judge his true position, for 

 I knew what Guyon said was true, only I had never 

 thought of it before. I did think of his names of fishes; 

 we had a buffalo and he spoke of red-horse. I had seen 

 dogfish and catfish, but where was this kind of nomen- 

 clature to end? Soon I saw several large fish. There 

 had been plenty of small ones seen, but with a twenty- 

 pound fish in the boat as a pattern my ideas were no 

 doubt enlarged. Soon I said: "Steady, stop!" and 

 plunge went the gig and missed. 



"I knew you wouldn't touch that fish," said Guyon; 

 "you threw too far from the boat, and it went clean over 

 him by two feet. Next time aim two feet below where 

 he looks to be at and you may get him. It's very seldom 

 that a man throws the gig under a fish that lies ten feet 

 away from the boat. Try it again." 



