THE CHANNEL-BASS.
The stop at Cooper’s store was not a long one. After buying some
articles of food that they needed, not forgetting a good supply of
condensed milk for the little bears, they set sail again.
As this was a post-office, the boys had inquired for letters. They had
no reason to expect any, and they got none; but each of them bought a
postal-card and mailed a brief message to his family.
There was a good camping-ground, with spring water, six or seven miles
above, and this they reached about nightfall.
The next day they started off early, and as they sailed along with
a good wind, they passed a large and comfortable-looking house on
the west bank, and saw, now and then, dwellings and clearings, which
proved that they would find the country better settled as they sailed
northward.
They also met a very neatly-appointed yacht, with a good-sized cabin,
and among the persons on board were some ladies and children.
“I didn’t suppose we’d meet any ladies down in this part of the world,”
said Phil.
“Oh, yes,” said Adam. “When I was in these parts before, ladies who
were travelling in the State, and had pluck enough to get to this
river, used to come down this fur, but they never went much further
South. From here up to Titusville you can gin’rally find houses,
about a day’s sail apart, where people can stay all night. But some
of the boats you can hire up to Titusville are good big ones, with
comfortable cabins, and little stoves to cook meals on board, and
everything convenient. But I wouldn’t want to navigate one of ’em heavy
boats,’cept where the river was deep and wide; and ladies and children
haven’t no call, anyway, to go much below this. The country’s too wild
for ’em.”
About noon, Adam said,--
“If we had time to fish, we might have good sport just now. This part
of the river is a first-rate place to catch channel-bass.”
“Let’s stop, anyway,” cried Chap. “We might fish an hour without
hurting anybody. What difference will it make if we get to Boontown
an hour earlier or later? And it may be that we’ll never get another
chance to fish for channel-bass; that is, if this river is the only
place where they can be caught.”
Phil was entirely of Chap’s opinion, and Adam had no objections to
fish for a time, if the boys cared for the sport. But Phœnix was not
altogether satisfied with the proposed stoppage.
“If we’re trying to get home as fast as we can,” he said, “I think we
oughtn’t to stop if we can help it, especially as we’ve lost so much
time anyway.”
“But this won’t be much time lost,” said Phil, “and as I am
quartermaster of this party, I think it is my duty to provide you with
some fresh food, and we’ve nothing on hand but salt ham and some of
those potted things we got at Cooper’s store.”
“That sounds as if you intended to catch all the fish,” said Chap.
“Of course, if you all want to stop,” said Phœnix, “I’ve nothing more
to say.”
“Now,” said Chap, standing up and raising his right arm as he spoke,
“I want to make a remark. It seems to be forgotten that I’m captain of
this expedition. But I have not forgotten it, and I order a halt for an
hour’s fishing.”
“After we’ve all agreed to it,” said Phil.
“And as to you, Mr. Treasurer,” continued Chap, addressing Phœnix, and
paying no attention to Phil’s remark, “I wish to say that if you don’t
stop criticising and opposing your noble commander, I shall depose you
from your position.”
“All right,” said Phœnix, with a grin. “If any other fellow has got
capital enough to run the office, I’m willing.”
“On second thought,” said Chap, “I think we won’t request you to
resign. As the treasurer of this expedition has to furnish the money,
you are the most worthy person for the post. Consider your place secure
as long as your cash holds out. Now, Mr. Steersman, shall we anchor?”
“Just jump forward there, cap’n,” said Adam, “and when I give the word,
let down the main-sail.”
It took somewhat longer to make the preparations for fishing than the
boys had supposed it would, for Adam had to run the boat ashore on a
little island, and wade into the shallow water with a hand-net to catch
some small fish for bait.
But at last the boat was put out into deep water, the sails were
lowered, and the anchor down, while the three boys, posting themselves
in convenient places in the after-part of the boat, threw out their
lines as far as they could.
There was quite a strong current at this point, and this helped to
carry the lines out to their full length.
Adam did not fish. In the first place he was willing to hold himself
ready to direct and assist the boys, and in the second place he had no
fishing lines.
“What is a channel-bass?” asked Phil. “I don’t think I ever heard of
them.”
“Well,” said Adam, “it’s a kind of bass that swims in the channel of
this river, and that’s pretty much all there is about it.”
“Is it a large fish, or a small one?” asked Chap.
Adam was not inclined to give the boys any information on the subject.
He wanted them to find out for themselves what a channel-bass was.
“Whatever they are,” said Phœnix, after a time, “they seem to be pretty
scarce; I haven’t had a bite yet.”
“Nor I either,” said both Chap and Phil.
“They ain’t packed in the river like sardines in a box,” said Adam,
“but I reckon one of ’em will come along after a while.”
“I thought I had a bite,” said Phœnix, after suddenly giving his line
a little jerk, “but I believe my hook has fouled on something at the
bottom.” Then, after another pull, he exclaimed, “It’s loose now, but
there’s nothing on it. Hook, sinker, and all must have gone!”
And he began disconsolately pulling in his slackened line.
Suddenly the cord, which seemed to be merely floating in the water,
straightened out with a jerk, and a yard or two of it ran through
Phœnix’s fingers, burning like a hot iron.
Then, as the boy nervously grasped the cord with a tighter hold, he was
pulled forward with such force that he fell plump upon his knees.
Adam sprang to help Phœnix, but as he did so, the boy rose to his feet.
“Whatever it was,” said Phœnix, “it’s off again. The line is perfectly
slack.”
“Haul in! haul in!” cried Adam; “you’ve got one. Don’t let your line be
slack, or he’ll get off.”
Phœnix, now quite excited, rapidly pulled in his line.
When it had become taut again, Adam said,--
“Pull in, but not too hard, or you’ll break your line. If he tries to
rush off, give him a little line, but if he comes this way, haul in
your slack as fast as you can, or he’ll get off the hook.”
Phœnix worked away bravely, the other boys looking on with excited
interest.
He pulled his line in steadily and slowly for a time; then, when the
fish seemed determined to run away from him, he let out a few yards;
and when it turned and swam toward the boat, he hauled in the slackened
line with great rapidity.
In this way he gradually drew his fish nearer and nearer to the boat,
and at last it became tired, and he was able, with occasional stops
when the fish gave a short struggle, to pull it slowly in.
Everybody gazed earnestly at the line, and directly they saw, rising
from the water, close to the boat, a head as big as a dinner-plate.
There was a jerk, as if the fish decidedly objected to poking its nose
into the open air, but Adam, who was leaning over the side of the boat,
ready for the work of the moment, quickly stretched out his arm and
slipped his hand under the fish’s gill. Then, with a powerful effort,
he rose to his feet, and drew out of the water a channel-bass, over
four feet long, and weighing probably forty pounds.
The boys could not find words to express their astonishment and delight
when they viewed this prize.
“That’s what a channel-bass is!” cried Phil. “If I’d known what
whoppers they were, I wouldn’t have supposed we could catch one with
our lines.”
“Your lines are strong,” said Adam, “and your hooks pretty good-sized,
but if we were comin’ out o’ purpose for channel-bass, we’d have
heavier tackle. But it would be hard work to haul in a feller like this
with any line, if you didn’t play him right.”
After being pulled into the boat, the great bass did not struggle as
long as some of the smaller fish they had caught, and he soon lay quiet
and dead.
The boys rolled up their lines, for there were no more bites, and it
was agreed that, having found out what a channel-bass was, they ought
to be satisfied.
“Is the fish good to eat?” said Phil.
“Tip-top,” answered Adam. “We’ll cover him up and take him along,
and we can have steaks enough for supper to-night and to-morrow’s
breakfast, and plenty left for the birds besides.”
“Well,” cried Chap, who had been standing in a reflective mood, “this
is the way things always happen. Here is Phœnix, who didn’t want to
stop and fish, and who grumbled and croaked, and didn’t believe there
were any fish in the river, even after he got to work; and _he_ must
catch the channel-bass, while Phil and I, who were in for the thing
from the beginning, and full of honest ardor, didn’t get a bite. Haul
up the sails and pull in the anchor, and let us away! It’s no use
struggling against blind luck. Virtue and enthusiasm don’t count.”
This speech was received with a wild laugh, and with four merry hearts
and a big fish on board, The Rolling Stone set out again upon her
northward course.
Adam knew exactly where he intended to camp that night, and before
dark he reached the beach of a little bay upon the eastern shore of the
river.
After a hearty supper, of which channel-bass was the principal dish,
and a talk by the camp-fire while Adam smoked his evening pipe, our
party made everything secure for the night, and were soon asleep in
their little cabin.
Chap, as we have said before, was a very early riser, and the next
morning he awoke and slipped quietly out of his narrow quarters without
awakening any of his companions.
As he gazed around with great delight upon the beautiful morning scene,
he saw, scarcely a hundred feet from the spot where they were moored, a
dirty little boat anchored near the shore.
“Upon--my--word,” said Chap to himself, “if that Maggie hasn’t put in
here in the night!”
[Illustration]