433 JBooK OF THE Black Bass. 



and flying — till it seemed an uncanny thing, as indeed 

 it was, a cervine ignis-fatuus, a hirsute mll-o'-the-msp. 



Several bass rose to it, and swirled at it, until one more 

 active than the rest grabbed it by a vicious lunge, and the 

 hook was firmly implanted in his Jaw. It was the work of 

 but a minute to land him in the boat, and he was soon 

 joined by another, when we repaired to our camp-fire which 

 was now throwing a cheerful, ruddy light on the pines and 

 palmettoes. 



This was one of the occasions when the "bob," or the 

 skittering-spoon, or the troUing-spoon may be legitimately 

 used ; for we not only took great pleasure in the novelty of 

 the sport, but we enjoyed a rich repast that night after 

 roasting the bass in their scales in the hot ashes, broiling 

 the deer's liver on a split stick, grilling a few crackers of 

 hard-tack, and making a cup of hot, strong coffee — leaving 

 enough for a cold breakfast at daylight in the morning. 



