Tragic Fishing Moments 



from one place to another. For a long time there 

 were no results. I began to think I was going to 

 have no luck, when all at once a very large fish made 

 a rush at the bait and I had him on and well hooked. 

 I commenced to play him around, but was hardly 

 able to hold him. I was very excited, when without 

 warning, crash went the bank on which I was stand- 

 ing, and I, one nigger, rod, line and all, went headlong 

 into the pool among the fish and crocodiles. 



I well remember the hell of a splash that was made, 

 because I am no lightweight two hundred and forty 

 pounds (I am two hundred and seventy pounds now). 

 I know I must have frightened the whole contents 

 of that pool most to death, as nothing attempted to 

 touch me or the boy who went in with me. I need 

 not tell you it did not take me a minute to scramble 

 out, wet to the skin and all my tackle gone. 



I made my way back to camp as quickly as pos- 

 sible to change and clean up, but I was the laughing- 

 stock of the whole troop, and I was jeered at and 

 called " the fisherman " for many a long day. 



I never recovered my tackle from the pool, but for 

 years afterwards, I caught many a giant fish in that 

 place when visiting thereabout on duty and could 

 spend a few days for sport. 



But I never again was fool enough to stand upon 

 an overhanging bank that was undermined. Once 

 bit, twice shy. 



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