The Go Ahead Boys in the Island Camp Part 7

"Fred and I thought we might go down to the other end of the lake," said John. "There's a camp down there, I believe, and we might see who is in it."

"Go ahead," exclaimed George. "Meanwhile I think I'll try to get my clothes dry," and suiting the action to the word he divested himself of everything he had on, which was not much. The few articles of clothing thus taken off he spread flat on the deck of the boat so that they might get the full benefit of the sun's rays.

The day was bright and not a cloud appeared in the sky. A gentle breeze blew across the lake barely ruffling the water. Consequently the Balsam sailed on an even keel and scant attention was necessary to keep her pointing in the right direction.

"How about trolling?" exclaimed Fred all at once.

"What do you mean by that?" asked George.

"You mean to say you don't know what trolling is?"

"If I had I wouldn't have asked you, would I?" laughed George.

"Well, I'll tell you," said Fred. "Trolling is fis.h.i.+ng in a certain way.

When you troll you sit in a moving boat and trail your line out behind you. As a rule you use a spoon or live bait so that it gives the appearance of swimming. People usually fish for pickerel that way."

"Let's try it," cried George enthusiastically. "Who's got a spoon?"

"I have," said Grant. "Hold this sheet and I'll put it on my line."

"Any pickerel in this lake, I wonder," remarked John.

"There ought to be lots of them," said Fred.

"Ba.s.s and perch too, I guess," John added.

"Perch are fine eating," exclaimed George. "I've eaten them cooked in a frying pan with lots of b.u.t.ter and bacon," and he sighed blissfully at the recollection.

"Did you ever eat brook trout fried in bacon and rolled in corn meal?"

asked Fred.

"Not yet," laughed George. "I hope to before long, though."

"Well when you do you'll know you've tasted the finest thing in the world there is to eat," said Fred with great conviction.

"Is it better than musk melon?"

"A thousand times."

"Whew!" whistled George. "Is it better than turkey?"

"A million times."

"Say," exclaimed George. "Is it better than ice cream?"

"It's better than anything, I tell you," Fred insisted.

"I'll take your word for it," laughed George. "I'd like to try it myself pretty soon though."

"Here's your spoon," said Grant, holding out the rod to George.

"You're going to fish, yourself," said George firmly.

"Not at all. I got it for you."

"Why should I try it any more than you?"

"Because I want you to. Go ahead."

"If you insist, I suppose I'll have to," laughed George and dropping the spoon overboard he let the line run out.

"How much line do I need?" he asked.

"Oh, about fifty or sixty feet I should think," said Grant.

"Well, I don't know much about it," remarked John breaking in on the conversation; "but it doesn't seem to me that we are making enough headway to keep that metal spoon from sinking."

"I'm afraid not myself," agreed Grant. "The wind seems to be dying down all the time and we'll be becalmed if we're not careful."

"I'll try it a few minutes anyway," said George. "I might get something."

"All you'll get is sunburned, I guess," laughed Fred. "You'd better put your clothes on or you'll be blistered to-morrow."

"That's right, Pop," said Grant. "I'd get dressed if I were you."

"Perhaps you're right," George agreed. "Here, String, you take the rod."

Scarcely had John taken the rod in his hands when he felt a violent tug at the line. The reel sang shrilly and then was still.

"You've hooked one," cried Fred excitedly. "Reel in as fast as you can."

"Bring the boat around, Fred," shouted Grant. "Come up into the wind."

Fred did as he was directed, while John strove desperately to reel in his line. At first there was no resistance and then all at once the rod bent double.

"Say!" exclaimed George, "it must be a whale!"

"It's bottom," said John disgustedly. "The old spoon sank just as I said it would and I've caught a log."

"Don't break the line whatever you do," warned Grant. "Swish your rod back and forth."

"It's caught fast," said John, following Grant's directions.

"Keep it up, you'll get it loose yet."

Suddenly the hook was released and as John reeled in there was no resistance to be felt at all. A moment later the spoon appeared and pierced by the hook was a small chip of water-soaked wood showing that it was some sunken log that had deceived the boys at first.

"That trolling business is great all right, isn't it?" laughed George, now completely dressed once more and ready for anything.