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Updated: May 25, 2025
They found a few lobworms and re-baited their hooks and cast their lines afresh, but met with no better success than before. "I'm fed up with fishing!" announced Romola at last. "Let's go home!" She had voiced the general opinion of the party. All immediately began to wind up their lines. "The tide's coming in fast, and we're close to the blow-hole," said Mavis.
But, as Peterkin remarked, it was better than the smouts he had been catching for the last two or three days; so we laid it on the log before us, and having re-baited the line, dropped it in again for another. Now, while we were thus intent upon our sport, our attention was suddenly attracted by a ripple on the sea, just a few yards away from us.
Kellyan and Bonamy were back on the Grizzly quest. "Time he was out again, and good trailing to get him, with lots of snow in the hollows." They had come prepared for a long hunt. Honey for bait, great steel traps with crocodilian jaws, and guns there were in the outfit. The pen-trap, the better for the aging, was repaired and re-baited, and several Black Bears were taken.
It was little worth having, however; but, as Peterkin remarked, it was better than the smouts he had been catching for the last two or three days; so we laid it on the log before us, and having re-baited the line, dropt it in again for another. Now, while we were thus intent upon our sport, our attention was suddenly attracted by a ripple on the sea, just a few yards away from us.
Then the Dutchman paddles out in his little scow, and perhaps by the time he has hauled in his fish and re-baited the hook another bottle is excitedly standing on its head. But never before nor since have any of them behaved as wildly as the one that a loon got hold of.
It was little worth having, however; but, as Peterkin remarked, it was better than the smouts he had been catching for the last two or three days; so we laid it on the log before us, and having re-baited the line, dropped it in again for another. Now, while we were thus intent upon our sport, our attention was suddenly attracted by a ripple on the sea, just a few yards away from us.
Almost at the same moment Slowfoot landed another, with less violence and more coolness. "What was I saying, Slowfoot?" asked the half-breed, when the hooks had been re-baited, and their eyes were riveted on their respective floats. "Nothing that any one could remember," answered his truthful spouse. "Now I remember ho! was that another?" "No, it was not," answered his matter-of-fact helpmate.
I saw her float bob under, and started up, rushed to her, and taught her how to strike and play it, though it turned out when landed to be nothing but a tiny barbel: but she was in ecstasies, holding it on her palm, murmuring her fond coo. She re-baited, and we lay again. I said: 'But what a life: no exit, no light, no prospect, no hope 'Plenty of hope! says she. 'Good Heavens! hope of what?
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