the water,
soon recovering the ground she had lost, and, careening over, swept by
the motionless brig, whose sails were now furled.
"Hah!" cried Brace, as they began to race before the breeze, "this is
the sort of river I like. Look, Briscoe, how clear it is. You can see
the bottom now and then."
"And the fish," said the American. "Brace Leigh, I begin to think we're
going to have plenty of sport up here."
CHAPTER TWENTY.
BRACE LEIGH'S SPORT.
"So we're to think of the pot and pan as well as of our specimens," said
Briscoe, loading both barrels of his gun.
"I fancy we shall have plenty of chances for doing both," said Brace,
following suit. "How well the boat sails! Why, we have got quite a
long distance from the brig already."
"Yes, and we're stemming a pretty good current too," said Lynton, who
was steering with one hand and taking out a stout fishing-line from the
boat's locker with the other. "But wouldn't you like to have a turn
with a spoon-bait as we are going along? I don't know what fish we're
going to catch, but I expect there'll be plenty of gar pike or something
of that kind."
"Well, you begin," said Brace. "I'll have a turn later on. I want to
try for a duck or something else eatable, and to have a look at the
country round about as well. I say, aren't we carrying too much sail?"
"Not a bit," said Lynton. "Look, I can ease off in a moment. See?"
"Yes," said Brace, as, with a touch at the tiller, the boat grew more
level instead of careening over as she ran; "that's right."
The boat glided smoothly along now on an even keel, and they all enjoyed
the magnificent scenery as they passed near the bank, with the forest
running right down to the brink of the stream and occasionally opening
out into avenues of gigantic trees.
Lynton was busying himself with the tackle as they sailed on, when Brace
turned to him and said:
"You don't expect to catch anything with that great drag-hook, do you?"
And he laughed at the large triangle hanging beneath a huge spoon, and
furnished with a double arrangement of swivels.
"Indeed, but I do," was the reply. "Here, catch hold of the tiller, my
lad. Steady. A little slower now."
"Shall we take in a reef, sir?" said Dan, who was holding the sheet.
"Oh, no, that will do, only take care you don't capsize us."
He then turned to Brace once more and continued the conversation about
the fishing-tackle.
"Yes, Mr Brace," he said,
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