142 
FOREST AND STREAM 
March, 1922 
THE MARKET PLACE 
(Continued from page 140) 
MISCELLANEOUS 
BEAGLES ARE RAPIDLY BECOMING 
the leading sporting dog. Elounds and hunting 
have more beagle news than all other magazines 
combined. Sample, S:20c ; $1.50 yearly. Desk F, 
tloimds and Hunting, Decatur, 111. 
FCX HOUNDS, BEAGLES, AIREDALES, 
Collies, St. Bernards. • Circular 10 cents. Allie 
Brown, York, Pa. 
FREE CONSULTATION ON ALL DOG 
diseases. Burwyn Remedies. Waterloo, Iowa. 
HAVE PERFECT WATSON TYPE IRISH 
Water Spaniel, perfect. \\’ould like to breed him 
it I can get a suitable female. Address T. A. 
Johnson. T^»o Marine Trust Bldg., Buffalo, N. Y. 
GREYHOUNDS, PUPPIES, FEMALES— 
Champion A. K. C, stock. Beauties. Spring 
Brook Farm. Littleton, Mass. 
Too Late to Classify 
CLEVELAND GUN SHOP, MINNEAPOLIS. 
Gunsmiths; large assortment of used guns always 
in stock. 205 South Seventh St. 
LISTEN! SILVER FOX FARMING JUST 
in its infancy. Everybody getting rich down this 
way. Fast, best of all. easy, with Black Foxes. 
Ask your fur man prices on pelts. I sold one litter 
this year $3,5(.K). If you wish to know more, en- 
close addressed stamped envelope for quick reply. 
K. L. Todd, Milltown, X. B., and MiUtown, ^le. 
WANTED TO PURCHASE 
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THE STORY OF JACK. By J. Horace Lytle. 
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THE HOODOO OF 
FRENCH RIVER 
(Continued from page 113) 
tried for more — little ones nine inches 
Jong were what we wanted. 
I made a cast and got a rise — then it 
happened. Not this time on my fish, but 
on the f)nc we had dangling a paddle’s 
length from the rear of the canoe. I saw 
a huge form dart savagely from the 
rocks, the canoe wobbled, and there was 
the Tiger with the bass and string right 
in his jaw — the bass and string without 
a hook. 
lie went away with the bass, caught 
right throngli the middle, not the tail or 
the head; right in the ribs he held his 
prey and with a swirl that sent the spray 
flying, he vanished again, while Joe and 
I looked at each other, said things and 
grinned. The Tiger was around, or else 
his mate was spelling him awhile. 
We caught bass with great half-healed 
gashes in the tail taper. We caught them 
marked in other ways by the terrific 
teeth of these muscallunge of the French. 
Then we got the Tiger right on the line. 
We hooked a nine-inch bass, a barred 
male, on the hook, and trolled him qui- 
etly and slowly along. Came a stop. I 
though it was just a bit of grass we had 
hooked into, but knowing the Tiger, I 
was hopeful and alert. Sure enough the 
line began to rim out. We had some- 
thing on the line, something big. There 
was no surge or splash, no fury or 
plunging, just that quiet, deliberate run- 
ning out of the line till some twenty yards 
had gone and Joe and I sat smiling in the 
sunlight. 
“It’s the Tiger,” said Joe in a whisper, 
“give him an hour to swallow the bait. 
It takes an hour easily.” 
“An hour? Joe, what are you dream- 
ing of? That Tiger swallowed the dore 
in five minutes. Five minutes is plenty,” 
I urged. 
“You give him an hour,” grunted Joe. 
Well, we argued and talked it all over, 
and finally compromised on twenty min- 
utes. I took out my watch and timed 
him — five, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes — • 
and then with a thrill that went clear to 
my toes, I struck. THE TIGER WAS 
ON. 
There was no leaping in the air, just 
terrific tugs that sent the rod doubling 
dowm into the water in spite of all I 
could do. There was pulling and lurch- 
ing and tugging, but he kept coming- 
nearer. I couid tell by the marks on my 
line that he was nearly in. Then Joe 
leaned over the canoe and yelled, “f see 
him, he’s a Tiger muscallunge all right, 
a real Tiger !” 
Scarcely had he said this when the 
line came loose. And I looked pale- 
faced and all gone at Joe. There was 
the bass flopping on the surface, and the 
Tiger at the surface too, a paddle’s length 
away. 
“Let him have it again,” Joe grunted, 
and hopelessly I twitched the half dead 
bass. To my utter and abiding surprise, 
the Tiger took the fish again, not with a 
splash or furious lunge, but just with a 
terrific weight-taking easy-going dive. 
This time Joe and I went into council. 
