to camp from somewhere on the trail. Soon Ham came into
view, a cotton flour sack thrown over his shoulder and a broad grin on
his face. He had left his pole in the thicket.

"Fish, fish, fish--little, big, and in between," he cried as he waved the
bag in front of him. "I've never had such fishing."

"Hurrah for the fisherman," called Chuck, as he came through the trees
with a half-dozen small pails in his hands. "Ham gets the fish, I get the
berries, and we all get the stomach-ache, see?"

"Let's look at the fish" shouted every one.

"Bet they are only minnies," cried Phil.

"Minnies, your grandmother," scornfully replied Ham. "I have one there
that's a foot and a half long if it's an inch. The others aren't so big."
He emptied the contents of the bag on the ground and stood proudly over
them, a merry twinkle in his eye.

Willis nudged Mr. Allen. "He's found our bag of fish, but don't tell."
Mr. Allen arose, and, holding up the big fish by the tail, said, "Ham,
you're the only original fisherman. That's the very fellow that pulled me
in and came near drowning me." Ham hurried off to the stream to clean the
catch and to laugh over his cleverness. Breakfast was a thoroughly
enjoyed meal that morning, for, besides the fish and the sweet wild
berries, there were just enough fish stories told to give the real thing
the proper seasoning.

"I'd rather sit on those big boulders along Goose Creek, just where it
empties into the backwaters of Cheeseman Dam, and catch a few big fellows
like that one than to take an extended trip to Europe," solemnly declared
Ham.

"I'd rather fish in the Narrows of Platte Canyon and pull out a fine big
rainbow every now and then than ride in a New York subway," added Chuck.

"And I'd rather see Mr. Allen catch _another_ big trout like that one
you're eating," remarked Willis, with a wink at Mr. Allen, "than to catch
all the bass in the State of Michigan."

By nine o'clock the party was again on the trail, traveling northwest
around the base of Black Mountain.

"It's going to be a scorcher," exclaimed Fat. "I'm about melted already.
I hope they haven't shipped that bear away from Cather Springs yet. I'd
like to see it. They caught it in a bear trap last week. There is hardly
a season goes by, any more, but what they get some kind of wild game.
Last year it was a big mountain lion, the year before it was a
badly-wounded mountain sheep, this year it was a bear and two cubs."

"That lio