Part 34 (1/2)

”I might try my hand at fis.h.i.+ng through the ice again,” said Giant.

”Baked fish will go fine for a change.”

”Hadn't I better stay here, Giant? Somebody ought to mind the camp until Snap and Shep get back, and my ankle is quite swollen.”

”Yes, stay by all means, and if you want me, yell or fire your gun.”

So it was arranged, and after dinner Giant sallied forth, with the axe, which had not been confiscated, and his fis.h.i.+ng lines and such bait as he could sc.r.a.pe together.

As Giant had found his former fis.h.i.+ng place a good one he went to the same spot again. The snow was deep and he had to sweep it away with a spruce branch he cut for that purpose. Then he chopped a round hole in the ice as before, and sat down on some snow and the tree branch to wait for a bite.

Fis.h.i.+ng proved slow, and it was a good quarter of an hour before he got a bite and then the fish slipped the hook just as he was hauling the catch to the surface. But he kept on and in an hour had a catch of three, all of fair size.

After that, however, try his best, he could not get another bite. Then he determined to go further down the lake, where there was another cove.

”There ought to be fish at the bottom of that cove,” he told himself.

”And if there are, I am bound to have some.”

Finding a spot that suited his fancy, he again swept off the snow and began to cut a hole in the ice. This proved quite a task, and by the time he had finished he was pretty well winded. He baited up and sat down on a bank of snow he had swept together.

Just then some noise reached his ears, and he looked around and listened. But the noise was not repeated.

”What could that have been?” he mused. ”Some bird?”

He strained his ears, but the stillness of the forest lay all around the lake. Of a sudden Giant began to feel lonely, and he gave a little s.h.i.+ver. Then he braced up.

”Pshaw, I'm getting as nervous as a cat,” he murmured. ”And all on account of nothing. I'd better go to fis.h.i.+ng and forget it.”

He dropped in his line, properly baited, and waited for a bite. He was lucky, for soon up came a nice maskalonge. Then, a few minutes later, came a rock ba.s.s--something for which he had not been looking. He grew interested, and forgot all about the noise he had heard, until the cracking of some bushes caught his ears.

”There's that noise again,” he muttered. ”What in the world can it be?”

For the first time since leaving the shelter Giant wished he had brought along his shotgun. What if some game should suddenly appear?

”If a deer should come along and I couldn't shoot it, it would make me sick,” he told himself. ”And game is always sure to come along when you haven't a gun.”

Giant had now seven fish, four of good size. He decided to wait for just one more, then wind up and go back to the shelter. It was rather cold sitting at the fis.h.i.+ng hole and his feet were beginning to feel very much like the ice under them.

He had baited up with care, and allowed the line to sink almost to the bottom of the lake, when a fresh noise startled him. This was another crackling sound. There followed a low, suppressed growl, and turning in the direction of the sh.o.r.e Giant was horrified to see a big, black bear come lumbering into view!

”A bear! I'll have to get out of here!” he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, and s.n.a.t.c.hing up his fish and line and the axe he started on a run for the shelter.

The bear came out on the ice and toward the hole. Then it smelt the fish, and a moment later started on a clumsy run after the fleeing youth!

CHAPTER XXVI

THE TRAIL THROUGH THE SNOW