A few moments’ pulling brought them to the bass ground, and George, holding the stick on which the line had been wound in his hand, waited impatiently for a “bite.”  They had hardly entered the ground when several heavy pulls at the line announced that the bait had been taken.  George jerked in return, and, springing to his feet, commenced hauling in the line hand over hand, while whatever was at the other end jerked and pulled in a way that showed that he was unwilling to approach the surface.  The boys ceased rowing, and Frank exclaimed,

“You’ve got a big one there, George.  Don’t give him any slack, or you’ll lose him.”

“Haul in lively,” chimed in Harry.  “There he breaches!” he continued, as the fish—­a fine bass, weighing, as near as they could guess, six pounds—­leaped entirely out of the water in his mad efforts to escape.  “I tell you he’s a beauty.”

Frank took up the “dip-net,” which the boys had used in catching the minnows, and, standing by George’s side, waited for him to bring the fish within reach, so that he might assist in “landing” him.  The struggle was exciting, but short.  The bass was very soon exhausted, and George drew him alongside the boat, in which he was soon safely deposited under one of the seats.

They rowed around the ground for half an hour, each taking his turn at the line, and during that time they captured a dozen fish.  The bass then began to stop biting; and Frank, who was at the helm, turned the boat toward the “perch-bed,” which was some distance further down the river.  It was situated at the outer edge of a bank of weeds, which lined the river on both sides.  The weeds sprouted from the bottom in the spring, and by fall they reached the hight of four or five feet above the surface of the water.  They were then literally swarming with wild ducks; but at the time of which we write, as it was only the latter part of June, they had not yet appeared above the water.  The perch-bed was soon reached, and Harry, who was pulling the bow-oar, rose to his feet, and, raising the anchor, which was a large stone fastened to the boat by a long, stout rope, lifted it over the side, and let it down carefully into the water.  The boat swung around until her bow pointed up stream, and the boys found themselves in the right spot to enjoy a good day’s sport.

Frank, who was always foremost in such matters, had his pole rigged in a trice, and, baiting his hook with one of the minnows, dropped it into the water just outside of the weeds.  Half a dozen hungry perch instantly rose to the surface, and one of them, weighing nearly a pound, seized the bait and darted off with it, and the next moment was dangling through the air toward the boat.

“That’s a good-sized fish,” said Harry, as he fastened his reel on his pole.

“Yes,” answered Frank, taking his prize off the hook and throwing it into the boat; “and we shall have fine sport for a little while.”