rod and feel the fish
still feebly struggling.

The next minute Mercer was by my side, the fish was drawn in close up
amongst the sedge growing on the bank. My companion went down flat,
reached a hand into the water, and scooped out my capture, which lay now
flapping feebly in all the glory of its golden scale armour, a short,
thick, broad-backed carp.

"There," cried Mercer, "didn't I tell you this was a grand place? Why,
it must be a two-pounder;" and I stood gloating over the vividly-bright
colour of my capture, while Mercer knelt down, took out the hook, and
finally deposited the fish in a hollow, and covered it with fern fronds.

"Look! look!" I cried just then.

"Oh, bother! Why, there's one on," said Mercer. "Here, give me your
rod;" and he stepped quickly out on to the penstock, and made a cast
with my line, trying to throw it over the top part of his own rod, which
was slowly sailing away, floating on the water with a curious motion
going on at the end, which kept diving down, as if something was trying
to draw it under water.

It was all plain enough: a fish had hooked itself, and at the first tug,
the light bamboo rod had glided off the penstock, to act as a big, long
float, for the cork was deep down somewhere out of sight.

I followed on to the penstock, and stood by as cast after cast was made,
always cleverly over the rod, but the hook glided back on being drawn
without taking hold.

It was plain enough that in a few minutes the rod would be drawn out of
reach, when Mercer made a more lucky cast, for in drawing back, the hook
had caught a part of the other line, and directly after there was a
steady tightening.

"Hah!" ejaculated Mercer, and he drew in steadily till his own rod was
within reach, and I lay down, leaned out as far as I could, and strained
to reach it.

"Take care. Hold tight. It's horrid deep here. Mind, or you'll be
in."

But I was holding tightly by part of the woodwork, and, after a few more
efforts, I touched the butt of the rod with the tips of my fingers,
pushing it away, for it to rise again right into my hand, and I rose
with it, safe.

"Give it to me. Take yours," cried Mercer, when the exchange was made,
and I saw his face light up as he began to play a good-sized fish, but
with my hook still attached to his line.

"It's a big one," he panted, as the struggle went on, with, the fish
fighting now to reach the water-lilies, but without success. "That
would