The process of wearing him out was repeated. Once again he was brought to the side of the boat. This time Tillie gave him very little line. Unfortunately it was not enough. As his head shot toward the landing net, the hook that protruded through his jaw caught on the rim of the net. There was a thundering of water, a whirlpool of white spray, and he was gone.
"Dumb!" exclaimed Tillie, throwing down her rod.
"Lost him!" Florence dropped the net. "But then," she added, "a pike's no good except to look at."
"That's right," agreed Tillie. "And we came out here for a big black bass. We'll have him too!" She baited her hook anew.
An hour passed, and another. The sun hung for a time above the cedars, then slowly sank from sight. The water turned golden, then red, then steel blue. Still they fished on.
The number of fine perch, nine, ten, twelve inches long, which Florence dropped into the live-net, grew and grew. Tillie flung hers overboard in great contempt, as soon as they were hooked, and grumbled because they took her bait.
"Do you know," said Florence teasingly, "I believe I have five pounds of fish? You have tried all afternoon for a five pounder, and got nothing. In life one should humbly accept that which comes, and hope for bigger things."
"I wonder." Tillie studied her face with tired eyes. "I wonder if that's so, or do you win best if you insist on having only the big things?"
"I suppose," Florence replied, "that one does that which one's nature demands. I can't throw a good perch away. You can't keep one. It's a queer old world."
"It is!" Tillie punctuated her remark with a vigorous overhand throw that landed her minnow far out into the darkening water.
"Watch!" she exclaimed a moment later. "See that line go out! It's a bass!"
There is nothing sweeter than the swift run of a bass before he turns his minnow and swallows it.
Zing! Tillie snapped the line. "Hooked!" she exclaimed, planting her feet far apart.
The ripples had subsided. The water was like polished steel at the surface. Yet one could see far into those mysterious depths.
"See!" she exclaimed tensely. "I've got him! The big one! And how meekly he comes in!"
What she said seemed true. She was reeling in rapidly. At the same time a monster of the lake, such a bass as Florence had never dreamed of, came racing toward the boat.