Bright moonlight, the early morning after the sun is up, and from a couple of hours after mid-day until the mountain-shadows strike the water in the evening, are the best times to troll for bass.  If so minded, they will rise to a fly at such times in the rapids; but no allurement excepting the troll will bring them to the surface in still water.  When the river is rising, or the water is clouded with mud or drift, bass scorn all surface-diet; but the live minnow or crawfish, hellgramite or fish-worm, will capture them on trout-line or hook attached to the soul-absorbing bob.  A clothes-line wire cable, furnished with well-assorted hooks baited with cotton, dough, and cheese well mixed together, and stretched in eddy-water when the river is muddy, will give fine reward in carp, white perch, catfish, turtles, garfish, and sweet revenge on the bait-stealing guana.

After nooning, lunch, and a quiet loaf, the party sped homeward with the current, handling rods and trolls as salmon and bass demanded lively attention.  Shooting a rapid, and out into a deep pool at its foot, the Doctor’s boat struck a snag, and he, having a resisting power equal to that of a billiard-ball, put his heels where his head had been, and disappeared under the water, to pop up again instantly, sputtering and spitting, like a jug full of yeast with a corn-cob stopper.

“Oh, Hickey!  Whoop!” exclaimed Martha, as she went off in wild screams of laughter.  “Kin you swim?” she asked, with the coolness of the mountain-maiden she was.

“No, no,” sputtered the Doctor.

“I reckon you’ll tow good.  Jest gimme your han’, an’ keep your feet down, an’ me an’ Alec ’ill tow you ashore to dreen.  Hit’s like you’re purty wet.”

He was soon landed by the stalwart Martha and Alec, and, while he attitudinized for draining, the Professor amused himself with taking an instantaneous photograph.

“By gum! he mought hev drownded,” said Tim Price to the Professor.  “The Doctor hain’t a good shape fer towin’, but he floats higher than any craft of his length I ever seed on Elk River.”

Just as the golden light of evening cast its sheen upon the river the camp-tents came in sight, where a group of natives stood waiting the arrival of the fishers to “hear what luck they’d hed.”

Colonel Bangem and Bess carried off equal honors in greatest count,—­sixty-two bass and five salmon each.  Martha, with her five-pounder, was weight champion.  Mrs. Bangem had the only blue pike.  The Professor claimed that, besides his twoscore fish, he had illustrations enough for a comic annual; and the Doctor asserted that he knew more about bass than any of them, for he had been down where they lived, and was of the opinion that he had swallowed a couple.

Bess Bangem said to the Professor, as they went up the bank together, “I had a great mind to count you in with my fish, to beat father; but I caught you long ago, so it would not have been fair.”