“Be careful!” exclaimed Alfred.  “Sit down.  You will have the canoe upset in a moment.  Hold your rod steady and keep the line taut.  That’s right.  Now lead him round toward me.  There,” and grasping the line he lifted a fine rock bass over the side of the canoe.

“Oh!  I always get so intensely excited,” breathlessly cried Betty.  “I can’t help it.  Jonathan always declares he will never take me fishing again.  Let me see the fish.  It’s a goggle-eye.  Isn’t he pretty?  Look how funny he bats his eyes,” and she laughed gleefully as she gingerly picked up the fish by the tail and dropped him into the water.  “Now, Mr. Goggle-eye, if you are wise, in future you will beware of tempting looking bugs.”

For an hour they had splendid sport.  The pool teemed with sunfish.  The bait would scarcely touch the water when the little orange colored fellows would rush for it.  Now and then a black bass darted wickedly through the school of sunfish and stole the morsel from them.  Or a sharp-nosed fiery-eyed pickerel—­vulture of the water—­rising to the surface, and, supreme in his indifference to man or fish, would swim lazily round until he had discovered the cause of all this commotion among the smaller fishes, and then, opening wide his jaws would take the bait with one voracious snap.

Presently something took hold of Betty’s line and moved out toward the middle of the pool.  She struck and the next instant her rod was bent double and the tip under water.

“Pull your rod up!” shouted Alfred.  “Here, hand it to me.”

But it was too late.  A surge right and left, a vicious tug, and Betty’s line floated on the surface of the water.

“Now, isn’t that too bad?  He has broken my line.  Goodness, I never before felt such a strong fish.  What shall I do?”

“You should be thankful you were not pulled in.  I have been in a state of fear ever since we commenced fishing.  You move round in this canoe as though it were a raft.  Let me paddle out to that little ripple and try once there; then we will stop.  I know you are tired.”

Near the center of the pool a half submerged rock checked the current and caused a little ripple of the water.  Several times Alfred had seen the dark shadow of a large fish followed by a swirl of the water, and the frantic leaping of little bright-sided minnows in all directions.  As his hook, baited with a lively shiner, floated over the spot, a long, yellow object shot from out that shaded lair.  There was a splash, not unlike that made by the sharp edge of a paddle impelled by a short, powerful stroke, the minnow disappeared, and the broad tail of the fish flapped on the water.  The instant Alfred struck, the water boiled and the big fish leaped clear into the air, shaking himself convulsively to get rid of the hook.  He made mad rushes up and down the pool, under the canoe, into the swift current and against the rocks, but all to no avail.  Steadily Alfred increased the strain on the line and gradually it began to tell, for the plunges of the fish became shorter and less frequent.  Once again, in a last magnificent effort, he leaped straight into the air, and failing to get loose, gave up the struggle and was drawn gasping and exhausted to the side of the canoe.