We must guard the reader, at this point, from supposing that our adventurers were always tumbling out of frying-pans into fires, or that they never enjoyed repose. By no means. The duty which lies upon us, to recount the most piquant and stirring of the incidents in their journeying, necessitates the omission of much that is deeply interesting, though unexciting and peaceful.

 

For instance,—on one occasion, Larry and Bunco were deputed to fish for trout, while our hero and the trapper went after deer. The place selected by the anglers was a clear quiet pool in a small but deep rivulet, which flowed down the gentle slope of a wooded hill. The distant surroundings no doubt were wild enough, but the immediate spot to which we refer might have been a scene in bonnie Scotland, and would have gladdened the heart of a painter as being his beau idéal, perhaps, of a “quiet nook.” The day was quiet too; the little birds, apparently, were very happy, and the sun was very bright—so bright that it shone through the mirror-like surface of the pool right down to the bottom, and there revealed several large fat trout, which were teazed and tempted and even exhorted to meet their fate, by the earnest Larry. The converse on the occasion, too, was quiet and peaceful. It was what we may style a lazy sort of day, and the anglers felt lazy, and so did the fish, for, although they saw the baits which were held temptingly before their noses, they refused to bite. Trout in those regions are not timid. We speak from personal experience. They saw Larry and Bunco sitting astride the trunk of a fallen tree, with their toes in the water, bending earnestly over the pool, just as distinctly as these worthies saw the fish; but they cared not a drop of water for them! Larry, therefore, sought to beguile the time and entertain his friend by giving him glowing accounts of men and manners in the Green Isle. So this pleasant peaceful day passed by, and Pat’s heart had reached a state of sweet tranquillity, when, happening to bend a little too far over the pool, in order to see a peculiarly large trout which was looking at him, he lost his balance and fell into it, head first, with a heavy plunge, which scattered its occupants right and left! Bunco chuckled immensely as he assisted to haul him out, and even ventured to chaff him a little.

 

“Yoo’s good for dive, me tink.”

 

“True for ye, lad,” said Larry, smiling benignantly, as he resumed his seat on the tree-trunk, and squeezed the water out of his garments. “I was always good at that an’ it’s so hot here that I took a sudden fancy to spaik to the fishes, but the dirty spalpeens are too quick for me. I do belaive they’re comin’ back! Look there at that wan—six pound av he’s an ounce.”

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