NED BUNTLINE'S RAQUETTE RIVER BASS. 



J. F. CLOSSON. 



When E. C. Judson, the novelist, better 

 known, perhaps, as "Ned Buntline," was 

 living on the Raquette, in a cabin of his 

 own building, Mr. Sidney Robbins was for 

 a time his companion. In after years Mr. 

 Robbins was fond of telling of their ad- 

 ventures in the wilderness. Having heard 

 many of his stories I can vouch for their 

 interest, if not for their authenticity. Mere 

 mention of the name of his distinguished 

 friend was sufficient to start the old gentle- 

 man off on a fresh narrative. One lead of 

 mine in that direction was rewarded as 

 follows : 



"Judson and I," said Mr. Robbins, his 

 brow furrowed and eyes half closed in an 

 earnest effort to recall facts, "went down 

 the Raquette one day and took along a pail 

 of minnows and another of worms. Jud 

 swore he would catch every fish in the river, 

 but what he would have enough for a good 

 dinner. We rowed a mile up stream, got 

 the boat nicely anchored, and waited for a 

 bite. Perhaps half an hour passed with- 

 out incident. Then Judson sprang to his 

 feet and began pulling in his line. It came 

 slowly, though I could see Jud was putting 

 all his muscle into the business. Pres- 

 ently there was a great surge at the end 

 of the line, and the water boiled and 

 foamed furiously. 



"I've got him, all right," cried Jud, as 

 a monster bass came in sight, "and he's the 

 father of all fish !" 



By main strength he hauled the big 

 fellow alongside. We both grabbed him 

 and despite his frantic struggles, fairly 

 scooped him aboard. He was so big that 

 we decided to call the sport off, and started 

 for shore, reaching it in a few minutes. 

 The fish lay quietly in the bottom of the 

 boat, but when we attempted to lift him 

 out trouble began and continued. Almost 

 the first flop of his tail knocked me back- 

 ward over the stern of the boat. When I 

 got my head above water there was a 

 royal melee in progress. Jud's hat was 



floating down the river and he was making 

 furious but futile grabs at his flopping op- 

 ponent, meanwhile swearing hard enough 

 to frighten an ordinary fish to death. I 

 rushed back to the fray and wound my 

 arms about the bass in a close and slimy 

 embrace. Judson tried to settle the trouble 

 by batting the fish over the head with a 

 wooden bailing-scoop. One blow was so 

 far misdirected that it took me squarely in 

 the chest. Again I went overboard, taking 

 the fish with me. Fortunately I fell on the 

 old fellow and succeeded in pinning him to 

 the bottom until Judson came to my as- 

 sistance. We got him into the boat, which 

 was by that time cleared of seats, oars, 

 bait-pails and every other movable, and 

 from there we carried him ashore. 



"As the bass appeared thoroughly spent 

 we left him on the ground while we went 

 to recover as much of our property as had 

 not sailed down stream. Returning with 

 our salvage, we looked in vain for our 

 prize. It was nowhere to be seen. 



"Well, great Caesar!" cried Judson, gaz- 

 ing up and down the shore. "This is a 

 mysterious affair, isn't it?" 



"Where the dickens could he have 

 gone?" I said. 



"Bust my jib-stay if I know," replied 

 Judson : "I've clean lost the point o' com- 

 pass. Turn to leeward, Sid, and cruise the 

 bushes. That son of a shark can't have 

 gone far." 



We finally found our catch in a little 

 pool at the river's edge, 25 feet from where 

 we had left him. He was so completely 

 exhausted that he made no resistance when 

 I picked him up and shouldered him. We 

 got him to the cabin and weighed him. 

 The scales tipped at just 40 pounds, 4 

 ounces." 



"Well," I exclaimed, "that was a mon- 

 ster, indeed!" 



"Y-e-s," said the old gentleman, re- 

 flectively, "he was pretty big; but Judson 

 and I caught some bigger ones." 



Edith — Mertie says she intends to learn 

 to skate this winter. 



Marie — But she learned last winter. 



Edith— Yes; but she broke her engage- 

 ment to that fellow.— Exchange. 



186 



