Peter had given me the can of grasshoppers
after putting half of them into his own bait-box, and these I used with
much success. It was grasshopper season, and the trout were evidently on
the lookout for them. I fished in the ripples under the little
waterfalls; and every now and then I drew out a lively trout. Most of
these were of moderate size, and some of them might have been called
small. The large ones probably fancied the forest shades, where old
Peter went. But all I caught were fit for the table, and I was very well
satisfied with the result of my sport.
About noon I began to feel hungry, and thought it time to look up the
old man, who had the lunch-basket. I walked down the bank of the brook,
and some time before I reached the woods I came to a place where it
expanded to a width of about ten feet. The water here was very clear,
and the motion quiet, so that I could easily see to the bottom, which
did not appear to be more than a foot below the surface. Gazing into
this transparent water, as I walked, I saw a large trout glide across
the stream, and disappear under the grassy bank which overhung the
opposite side. I instantly stopped. This was a much larger fish than
any I had caught, and I determined to try for him.
I stepped back from the bank, so as to be out of sight, and put a fine
grasshopper on my hook; then I lay, face downward, on the grass, and
worked myself slowly forward until I could see the middle of the stream;
then quietly raising my pole, I gave my grasshopper a good swing, as if
he had made a wager to jump over the stream at its widest part.
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