FISHING IN THE OHIO. 125 



caught, weighs half a pound. Reader, I never had such patience. Al- 

 though I have waited ten years, and yet see only three-fourths of the 

 Birds of America engraved, although some of the drawings of that work 

 were patiently made so long ago as 1805, and although I have to wait 

 with patience two years more before I see the end of it, I never could hold 

 a line or a rod for many minutes, unless I had — not a " nibble,'" but a 

 hearty bite, and could throw the fish at once over my head on the 

 ground. No, no — If I fish for trout, I must soon give up, or catch, as 

 I have done in Pennsylvania's Lehigh, or the streams of Maine, fifty or 

 more in a couple of hours. But the trot-line is in the river, and there 

 it may patiently wait, until I visit it toward night. Now I take up my 

 gun and note-book, and, accompanied by my dog, intend to ramble 

 through the woods until breakfast. Who knows but I may shoot a tur- 

 key or a deer ? It is barely four o'clock ; and see what delightful morn- 

 ings we have at this season in Kentucky ! 



Evening has returned. The heavens have already opened their 

 twinkling eyes, although the orb of day has yet scarcely withdrawn it- 

 self from our view. How calm is the air ! The nocturnal insects and 

 quadrupeds are abroad ; the bear is moving through the dark cane- 

 brake, the land crows are flying towards their roosts, their aquatic 

 brethren towards the interior of the forests, the squirrel is barking his 

 adieu, and the Barred Owl glides silently and swiftly from his retreat, to 

 seize upon the gay and noisy animal. The boat is pushed off from the 

 shore ; the main-line is in my hands ; now it shakes ; surely some fish 

 have been hooked. Hand over hand I proceed to the first hook. No- 

 thing there ! But now I feel several jerks stronger and more frequent 

 than before. Several hooks I pass; but see, what a fine Cat-fish is 

 twisting round and round the little line to which he is fast ! Nat, 

 look to your gafl^ — hook him close to the tail. Keep it up, my dear fel- 

 low ! — there now, we have him. More are on, and we proceed. When 

 we have reached the end many goodly fishes are lying in the bottom of 

 our skiff. New bait has been put on, and, as we return, I congratulate my- 

 self and my companions on the success of our efforts ; for there lies fish 

 enough for ourselves and our neighbours. 



A trot-line at this period was perfectly safe at Henderson, should I 

 have allowed it to remain for weeks at a time. The navigation was 

 mostly performed by flat-bottomed boats, which during calm nights floated 



