94 How I Became a Sportsman. 



The squire had to let out plenty of slack, and 

 then get it up the other side of the punt, all 

 which time the squire was smoking his pipe 

 and shouting and hollowing at Bia to pull this 

 way, and then that, to back, to stop, to go, and 

 fifty other directions. At last the fish made 

 a turn, and bolted away for the water-lilies 

 again. " I shall lose him now," said the squire ; 

 " pull up to him, Bia." When we got up, sure 

 enough he had got the line well tangled in the 

 stems of the lilies. " Pull, Bia, back water, Bia ; 

 why the devil don't you do as I tell you ? " We 

 got the boat-hook to work, and pulled up the 

 roots, and were glad to find he was still on. He 

 was too well hooked to be able to get off by 

 such a manoeuvre ; that is the beauty of the 

 gorge, for the pike generally gets it so far down 

 his stomach that unless the tackle gives way 

 his doom is pretty certain. 



In the excitement of this last business the 

 squire had taken his pipe out of his mouth 

 and clapped it into his pocket. This was the 

 pike's last effort, and he was very soon hauled 

 into the boat in the same way as the last ; lie 

 was about as big a fish, rather longer, but not 

 so deep. The squire was standing up in the 



