uss. "You have to peg stones at
'em to drive 'em away."

"Huh!" sniffed Frane. "Funny cats up North. I don't believe you have any
up there."

"You're right we don't," agreed Russ, and now he laughed again. "Not
any cats that swim. Cats hate the water----"

"Aw, shucks! I'm not talking about cats!" exclaimed Frane. "I'm talking
about catfish."

"Oh!" ejaculated the Northern boy.

"You know a catfish, don't you? It has feelers that we call whiskers.
Awful nice eating, for they only have a backbone."

"Oh!" murmured Russ again. "I guess I didn't understand. Let me see the
fish, will you, please?"

"You can look," said Frane passing him the cylinder of bark. "But maybe
we have scared him off, talking so much."

The big catfish, however, had not been scared away. After a few moments,
and with Frane's aid, Russ Bunker got the wooden spyglass focused on the
proper point. He saw the imbedded rock Frane had spoken of. Then he saw
the fish basking in the water below the rock's edge.

It was almost two feet long, with a big head and goggle eyes, and the
"whiskers" Frane had spoken of wriggled back and forth in the slow
current. Russ grew excited.

"Why!" he whispered to Frane, "I could grab it, if I tried. It is just
like what we call bullheads up in Pineville. I've caught 'em in our
pond. You can hardly get 'em off the hook without getting stung by 'em."

"Catfish don't sting you. But you have to knock 'em in the head when you
land them, so as to make 'em behave. I've seen the boys do it."

"I'm going to make a grab for that fellow," declared Russ.

"I reckon you'd miss him. You couldn't hold him, anyway," said Frane
doubtfully.

"I could so."

"No, you couldn't. He's too big. They never catch catfish that way."

"I know I never caught a bullhead that way," admitted Russ. "But one
never lay so still for me. And right under this log! Here! You take the
spyglass."

"You'd better take care," advised the Southern boy.

But Russ felt very daring. It seemed that the fish lay only a few inches
under the surface of the brown water. If he could grasp the fish and
throw it ashore, how the other children would all shout! Perhaps Russ
Bunker wanted to "show off" a little. Anyway, he determined to make the
attempt to land the big catfish with his hands.

"You can't do it," warned Frane, Junior, creeping back a way so as to
give Russ more room.

"Don't say that till you see," returned the boy from the North. "Now,
lo