n't do," he cried. "If he once got in there, he'd wind the weeds
about the line, and break away."

So, by steady force, the fish was led back, and again I went ashore
first, took Mercer's rod, and held it while he scooped out, and threw
high our second capture, which proved to be another carp, nearly, but
not quite so big as mine.

We were soon fishing again from our old place, but without the slightest
success now, the struggles with our golden prisoners having apparently
scared away all the other fish.

"This won't do," said Mercer at last; "we shall have to try somewhere
else. Here, I forgot all about Jem Roff; and look at 'em."

"Look at what?"

"Why, the eels. Can't you see them?"

"No."

"Why, look at those bubbles coming up. That's eels at work stirring up
the mud at the bottom, or coming out of their holes. We'll soon talk to
them."

His way of talking to the eels was to raise the floats so high, that,
after trying several times, it became evident that he had adjusted the
depth so that the bait touched the ground, and the floats lay half over
on their sides.

"Now then," he said, after examining the worms, "we ought to catch old
Jem's supper pretty soon. Throw in there, near me."

I did as I was told, and the patient waiting began again, with changes
of baits and moves in fresh positions, but without result, and I was
beginning to get rather tired and hungry, when my companion said
dolefully,--

"Don't seem to bite. They won't begin till it's nearly dusk, and we
shall have to go back before very long, for we must have some tea.
Wonder whether cook'll give us some meat? I know: we'll get some eggs
of Polly Hopley; she'll boil 'em for us, and we'll take 'em back."

We fished for another hour.

"It's no good," said Mercer; "I'm very sorry. I wanted you to catch a
big eel, and then you'd want to come again, and now you won't care about
it."

"Oh yes, I shall," I said. "It was worth coming too, even if we didn't
catch any more fish."

"You think so? Look! you've got him!"

For my float was bobbing gently, and moving slowly away.

"No, no, don't strike. Yes--let him have it. That's an eel biting, and
he will not leave it. You'll see."

The gentle bob, bob, bob of the float went on as it glided slowly away
foot after foot, till I could bear the excitement no longer, and I
turned my eyes to my companion as if to say, "Do let me strike now--
strike gently."

"Yes," he cried, "he m