106 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 
I was awaken by my mother’s whispering and thought something 
very serious had happened, for I saw her with a revolver in her hand 
trying to get to the front door. I stopped her and asked what the 
trouble was. She said a burglar is going to dynamite the house. So 
I jumped up and investigated through the look-out window. I saw a 
dark object on the stoop down near the front steps lighting matches 
occasionally. Taking a good look I saw it was only old Jiu sitting 
there smoking while waiting for me. Mother, not knowing of my 
fishing trip and his coming to meet me, thought it was a burglar, and 
I can’t say that I blamed her a bit, for it was quarter past 2 in the 
morning. I opened the door and invited him in and talked about 
fishing asking him hundreds of questions concerning things since my 
absence. At three-thirty Kino came equipped with carp-webbed bait 
box and a 10-foot rod. Jiu was to supply all the worms we needed. 
So we started as if we were ten years young, even Jiu felt younger. 
His voice often broke his bass key and jumped up to tenor tone. 
We came to Dakoku Ike (Snake Gulch) where two streams form a 
big pool and the water is as clear as crystal and very deep. I sat 
down at a likely spot and the creeking of my reel attracted my com- 
panions’ attention, and it took me a good half hour explaining Ameri- 
can tackle. With envious eyes they watched me put a fat. juicy 
worm on the hook and drop itin. The three of us kept silent a while 
eagerly watching our rods as all anglers do. With the rising of the 
sun a soft breeze sprang up scented with the perfume of cherry blos- 
soms. The birds were beginning to sing in the flower-covered meadow. 
I could not help being impressed with the change from this scene 
to that of America with its street cars and autos where I had been 
for seven years. All of a sudden I heard my reel sing and before 
I could grab the rod the tip went down and touched the water. I 
had something hooked. (Here I must explain that when one goes 
fishing in Japan you don’t know what kind of a fish you have until 
he is landed for there are so many kinds in all the streams. When 
you get something different from what you contemplated you call 
it an odd customer.) I played with my fish as we do with trout or 
steelhead and waited for it to get tired before pulling in. It was not 
five minutes before my line snapped. The other two laughed heartily, 
for it amused them after my boasting what my line could hold, and 
I felt cheap too. Nobody got another bite for quite a while, but when 
the clouds gathered thick and threatened a warm rain Jiu hooked 
one about 10 inches long, a four-year funa. Then I landed two in 
succession and one was four-year and the other five-year funa. Kino 
was out of luck not getting a bite, so he started to talk about 
hunting, but I was engrossed with fishing and paid no attention to 
him. Soon after he got three. Later in the afternoon the sun came 
out sending forth lazy rays of spring warmth causing Jiu to become 
sleepy and he was soon nodding. Si Kino winked at me and I found 
a frog jumping around and catching it I gently put it on Jiu’s hook. 
The frog was pulling Jiu’s float something awful. I screamed “Fish 
on! fish on!” in genuine Oregon City tone. On waking he grabbed 
his pole and lifting it up very laboriously, said: “I got big one.” We 
laughed as heartily as children do. But to our surprise I could see 
something very big splashing the water and fighting viciously. Finally 
Jiu landed a four-pound catfish. Then the laugh was on us. Evi- 
dently the live frog attracted the attention of the catfish and grabbed 
it before Jiu grabbed the pole. Thus we ended our fishing toward 
evening having caught thirty-seven fish of five different species and 
satisfied my long desire of fishing in the Flowery Kingdom. 
