34:0 MEN I HAVE FISHED WITH. 



kept casting and skittering until I got a rise that took 

 the bait off the hook. This was encouraging. Then 

 Amos got a strike that was a savage one; it pulled the 

 line through the ring on the tip of his hickory switch, 

 and scorched his hand in checking the rush. We had 

 no reels ; I had probably seen them in Eastern stores, but 

 had no knowledge of them in practical fishing. It was 

 evident that Amos knew as much about fishing as I did, 

 and that was considerable, I thought. He soon checked 

 the fish and landed it, a pike of some kind that may have 

 weighed five pounds. Warren struck something, wet his 

 foot and lost his line, because it was short and was not 

 fastened to the butt. 



"Betcher," said he, "that fish would weigh fifty 

 pounds. It was the biggest one I ever hooked. No 

 man c'd V stopped him. Did you see how he took that 

 line out? Why, lightnin* 'ud a' been left away behind in 

 that race." 



Amos suggested that the pike would make our din- 

 ner, and we let the minnows go and went up to his 

 cabin. While he prepared dinner I looked after the 

 ponies, which were staked out on the prairie; led them 

 down to water, and gave them some salt. I wonder if 

 an Indian ever wasted salt on a pony? It's doubtful. 

 About the only thing that I ever saw them give a pony 

 freely was a club. My tough little fellow, which I had 

 named "Jimsey," a sort of pet form of "Jim," had become 

 greatly attached to me through the agency of salt and 

 sugar. Warren came out and put a hobble on his pony, 

 and I turned mine loose. I urged him to do likewise, 

 but he said : 



"That's all right; Jimsey will stay here with Pete be- 

 cause he's hobbled, but, betcher, you let 'em both loose 

 an' you'll never see 'em ag'in." 



