Fugen eBooks

In a moment I saw a tug at the line. The end of his pole
went under water like a flash. It bent double as Uncle Eb gave it a
lift. The fish began to dive and rush. The line cut the water in a
broad semicircle and then went far and near with long, quick
slashes. The pole nodded and writhed like a thing of life. Then
Uncle Eb had a look on him that is one of the treasures of my
memory. In a moment the fish went away with such a violent rush,
to save him, he had to throw his pole into the water.
'Heavens an' airth!' he shouted, 'the ol' settler!'
The pole turned quickly and went lengthwise into the rapids. He
ran down the bank and I after him. The pole was speeding through
the swift water. We scrambled over logs and through bushes, but
the pole went faster than we. Presently it stopped and swung
around. Uncle Eb went splashing into the brook. Almost within
reach of the pole he dashed his foot upon a stone, falling headlong
in the current. I was close upon his heels and gave him a hand. He
rose hatless, dripping from head to foot and pressed on.


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