He tore up the ground for the length of
the log, and then he went to others, cramming the worms and dirt
with them into his pockets. When he had enough, he went back, and
with extreme care placed three of them on his hook. He tried to see
how Jimmy was going to fish, but he could not tell.
So Dannie decided that he would cast in the morning, fish deep at
noon, and cast again toward evening.
He rose, turned to the river, and lifted his rod. As he stood
looking over the channel, and the pool where the Bass homed, the
Kingfisher came rattling down the river, and as if in answer to its
cry, the Black Bass gave a leap, that sent the water flying.
"Ready!" cried Dannie, swinging his pole over the water.
As the word left his lips, "whizz," Jimmy's minnow landed in the
middle of the circles widening about the rise of the Bass. There
was a rush and a snap, and Dannie saw the jaws of the big fellow
close within an inch of the minnow, and he swam after it for a
yard, as Jimmy slowly reeled in. Dannie waited a second, and then
softly dropped his grubs on the water just before where he figured
the Bass would be. He could hear Jimmy smothering oaths. Dannie
said something himself as his untouched bait neared the bank. He
lifted it, swung it out, and slowly trailed it in again. "Spat!"
came Jimmy's minnow almost at his feet, and again the Bass leaped
for it. Again he missed. As the minnow reeled away the second time,
Dannie swung his grubs higher, and struck the water "Spat," as the
minnow had done.
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