486 WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 



Ego — " Yes ! in the name of mercy go anywhere — where 

 its cold — into Round Lake or Nova Zembla. Wish Round 

 Lake, Lake Pleasant and all the rest of your lakes were 

 boiling in the cauldron of Hecla, and I was sitting on an 

 iceberg to witness it^how I would rejoice to see the bleached 

 salmon tossed up on the bubbles !" 



Piscator — solemnly — " but then we should eat them without 

 the glory of captiiring them alive. Unless I had felt them 

 play upon my tackle I should have no stomach for their 

 blanched sides. It is a wish unworthy a true brother of the 

 angle !" 



Ego — "Piscator, when you die, the Zodiac will be the 

 richer, for you will surely be translated into the sign of 

 the fish ! — to join the patriarchs who have gone before — 

 Walton, and Cotton, Mr. Secretary Bibb — when he does 

 go ! A breeze ! a breeze ! my kingdom for a breeze ! 

 G-eorge, let us away to Round Lake— this bad cannot be 

 made worse!" 



We pass into the narrow inlet, and the boat glides briskly 

 among the parched water lilies, the drooping flags and long 

 bowed ' grass. A half mile of its winding way, and we are 

 shot, with a long sweep of oars, into Round Lake. " Beau- 

 tiful ! beautiful!" — I exclaimed aloud — "What a scene of 

 fairie." 



Piscator — "Verily, it seems promising for trout here, at 

 last, George. They are known to bite on this deep water 

 such days as this?" 



Ego — "No, unfortunate Piscator — ^you may rest assured 

 never ! They would scald their noses if they came near 

 enough the surface to strike, even here." 



George — with a sly evasion — "It requires a breeze, sir, 

 for them to bite most any time !" 



Piscator — " Here goes with another shiner — breeze or no 

 breeze, we must have a trout for dinner ! Would that I had 

 my hook of flics !" 



