into the river. Ben
and Buck had returned, having made their prisoner fast to the railing
of the pier, at the suggestion of Mr. Benedict, who said he would look
out for him.

The steamer stopped when she was clear of the pier, and then went
ahead. The pilot said he was perfectly familiar with the navigation of
Doctor's Lake, having surveyed it in the service of the State. The
water was very shallow near the shore, where we had broken through the
bushes to its brink; but it was said to be very deep in many parts. I
had read that the frequent passage of steamers over the waters of the
St. Johns had driven the frightened fish into such places as Doctor's
Lake. We entered its waters, and steamed several miles up the lake.
Then the pilot rang the gong, and the vessel was soon at rest.

We baited our hooks, and dropped the lines into the lake. Miss Margie
was the first to hook a fish. After a hard pull she got him to the top
of the water. It was a catfish weighing twelve pounds. The Colonel and
Owen were disgusted. A catfish is an exaggerated hornpout, or
"bullhead." None but negroes eat them at the South.

CHAPTER XXIII.

TROLLING FOR BLACK BASS.

"The idea of fishing for catfish is absurd!" exclaimed Colonel Shepard.
"It isn't a proper use to put a white man to."

"Don't fish so deep, then," suggested Cornwood. "The catfish live on
the bottom."

I was as much disgusted with the idea of catching catfish as the
Colonel, for I had seen plenty of them caught by the negroes on the
wharves at Jacksonville. I took a good-sized spoon-hook, with three
hundred feet of line attached to it, just as I had used it in Lake
Superior, and cast the hook as far out into the water as I could. I
trolled it home, and obtained quite a heavy bite. I tried it again, and
this time hauled in a fish that would weigh six pounds.

"What's that, Mr. Cornwood?" I asked, as I brought the fish inboard.

"That's a black trout," replied the pilot.

"Black trout!" replied the Colonel, who was a great fisherman. "That
isn't a trout of any sort! It is a black bass."

"We call them black trout on the St. Johns, where they are very plenty
at some seasons of the year," added Cornwood.

"He is not quite like our black bass of the lakes of the State of New
York; his head is larger," added the Colonel, after he had looked the
fish over. "Still he is a black bass, and a big one too."

"Do you call that a big one?" demanded Cornwood contemptuousl