Just then the dinner gong sounded. The party planned an outing at
Horseshoe Falls, Chiquita and Miss Asquith, with Cal as escort, all
mounted, while Jack and Hazel drove in the buckboard, carrying supplies
and fishing tackle. Ten miles over a hard, sandy road, a couple of
hours' fishing, lunch in camp fashion, then an hour's rest and return to
the hotel. Miss Asquith was a trifle timid at first, but she was not a
novice and soon proved well able to master her mount, although he was
spirited and inclined to test his powers against all comers. But she
could not catch trout. Cal, of course, found it necessary to spend most
of his time extricating her line from the limbs of trees or driftwood in
the stream and changing the flies.

He showed her when and how to let the sombre hued gray hackle or gaudy
"royal coachman" settle daintily along the riffle, or drop a "black
gnat" from a bunch of grass on the opposite bank as though it was a sure
enough bug. But the lady in search of a Chinaman could not hook the lord
of the water. She was either too slow or too quick, and the exasperating
ineffectual attempts to capture one _little one_ of the many that
rose to the bait, took it with a rush only to drop it instantly, or the
ones even darting out of the water as she lifted her flies too quickly,
wore her patience to a frazzle. In fact, after losing one grand fellow
that she had managed to hold for just an instant before he broke her
leader, she was fairly upset and could not keep back the tears of
disappointment.

"Now, little one, you must not give up that way," Cal expostulated.
"These pesky fellows are just like lightning. Let me see if I can't get
that one. Now watch my fly as it goes into the dark shadow by that tree
and I will skitter the second fly sort of dancing-like diagonally across
the lower corner of the swirl that makes over that sunken rock--Gee,
whiz! I've got him, and see, there is another just grabbed the second
fly. Now the trick is to let them fight it out among themselves while I
hold this end of the argument. Two are not so hard to 'whip' as one if
you keep your line just easy tight as they are pulling against each
other all the time. But we will have to go down by that little beach
where I can wade out with a landing net; the tail fly being down stream,
the farthest will drop into the net first, then I let the other float in
on top of him, see?"

"I don't care, I think it is real mean I can't catch one,"