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Updated: June 24, 2025
Within two minutes, fat was sputtering in a hot pan, and Dick was shaking corn meal onto a plate. "Bring 'em up!" he ordered. "We'll start this thing going." Twenty minutes later, using two pans, all the bull-heads had been cooked, and now lay on platters in the oven of the stove. "Three apiece, and one left over," Greg discovered. "Who gets the odd one?" "Shame on you!" muttered Reade.
A paved platform surrounded one side of the cave, and near its rear edge was a bench of masonry, which was continued along the side of the pool by a similar bench, cut partly from the living rock. The water was so clear that we could see, by the light coming from above, to its very bottom, and could detect little black fishes, like bull-heads, against the sand and pebbles.
The Tree River of the Esquimaux which discharges its waters into this bay appears to be narrow and much interrupted by rapids. The fishing-nets were set but obtained only one white-fish and a few bull-heads. This part of the coast is the most sterile and inhospitable that can be imagined.
"Who's taking my name in vain?" demanded a laughing voice, as Dalzell appeared between the trees. "Oh, you " "Shirk!" Reade had been about to add, when Danny held up a fat string of fish. These were horned-pouts, sometimes called "bull-heads." "How many?" asked Dick promptly. "Nineteen -one for every mile we made in getting close to the creek," Dan rejoined. "Great!" cried Greg.
"There's the creek the bull-heads came from," suggested Hazelton hopefully. "That's close at hand." "I know it is," Dick replied, "but I've had a look at it. That creek is both shallow and muddy. No sort of place for swimming." One thing these Gridley High School boys had learned in the football squad, and that was discipline.
It is a subject that has arrested the attention of many of the ablest minds of the country, and the results of experiments have been thus far so satisfactory that it is almost safe to predict that within the next ten centuries every man, however poor, may pick bull-heads off of his crab apple vines and gather his winter supply of fresh shad from his sweet potato trees at less than fifty cents a pound.
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