"Off, nothing! HE'S GOING TO JUMP. Look out for him, now!"And then the two watching from the boat, tense and quivering with the drama of the moment, saw that most inspiriting of sights--the "break" of a salmon-trout. Up he went, from a brusque explosion of ripples and foam--up into the gray of the morning from out the gray of the water: scales all gleaming, hackles all a-bristle; a sudden flash of silver, a sweep as of a scimitar in gray smoke, with a splash, a turmoil, an abrupt burst of troubled sound that stabbed through the silence of the morning, and in a single instant dissipated all the placid calm of the previous hours.
"Keep the line taut," whispered Condy, gritting his teeth. "When he comes toward you, reel him in; an' if he pulls too hard, give him his head."Blix was breathing fast, her cheeks blazing, her eyes all alight.
"Oh," she gasped, "I'm so afraid I'll lose him! Oh, look at that!"she cried, as the trout darted straight for the bottom, bending the rod till the tip was submerged. "Condy, I'll lose him--I know I shall; you, YOU take the rod!""Not for a thousand dollars! Steady, there, he's away again! Oh, talk about SPORT!"Yard by yard Blix reeled in until they began to see the silver glint of the trout's flanks through the green water. She brought him nearer. Swimming parallel with the boat, he was plainly visible from his wide-opened mouth--the hook and fly protruding from his lower jaw--to the red, quivering flanges of the tail.
His sides were faintly speckled, his belly white as chalk. He was almost as long as Condy's forearm.
"Oh, he's a beauty! Oh, isn't he a beauty!" murmured Condy. "Now, careful, careful; bring him up to the boat where I can reach him;e-easy, Blix. If he bolts again, let him run."Twice the trout shied from the boat's shadow, and twice, as Blix gave him his head, the reel sang and hummed like a watch-man's rattle. But the third time he came to the surface and turned slowly on his side, the white belly and one red fin out of the water, the gills opening and shutting. He was tired out. A third time Blix drew him gently to the boat's side. Condy reached out and down into the water till his very shoulder was wet, hooked two fingers under the distended gills, and with a long, easy movement of the arm swung him into the boat.
Their exultation was that of veritable children. Condy whooped like an Apache, throwing his hat into the air; Blix was hardly articulate, her hands clasped, her hair in disarray, her eyes swimming with tears of sheer excitement. They shook each other's hands; they talked wildly at the same time: they pounded on the boat's thwarts with their fists; they laughed at their own absurdity; they looked at the trout again and again, guessed at his weight, and recalled to each other details of the struggle.
"When he broke that time, wasn't it grand?"
"And when I first felt him bite! It was so sudden--why, it actually frightened me. I never--no, never in my life!" exclaimed Blix, "was so happy as I am at this moment. Oh, Condy, to think--just to THINK!"
"Isn't it glory hallelujah?"
"Isn't it better than teas, and dancing, and functions?""Blix--how old are we?"
"I don't care how old we are; I think that trout will weigh two pounds."When they were calm again, they returned to their fishing. The morning passed, and it was noon before they were aware of it. By half-past twelve Blix had caught three trout, though the first was by far the heaviest. Condy had not had so much as a bite. At one o'clock they rowed ashore and had lunch under a huge live-oak in a little amphitheatre of manzanita.
Never had a lunch tasted so delicious. What if the wine was warm and the stuffed olives oily? What if the pepper for the hard-boiled eggs had sifted all over the "devilish" ham sandwiches?
What if the eggs themselves had not been sufficiently cooked, and the corkscrew forgotten? They COULD not be anything else but inordinately happy, sublimely gay. Nothing short of actual tragedy could have marred the joy of that day.
But after they were done eating, and Blix had put away the forks and spoons, and while Condy was stretched upon his back smoking a cigar, she said to him:
"Now, Condy, what do you say to a little game of cards with me?"The cigar dropped from Condy's lips, and he sat suddenly upright, brushing the fallen leaves from his hair. Blix had taken a deck of cards from the lunch-basket, and four rolls of chips wrapped in tissue paper. He stared at her in speechless amazement.
"What do you say?" she repeated, looking at him and smiling.
"Why, Blix!" he exclaimed in amazement, "what do you mean?""Just what I say. I want you to play cards with me.""I'll not to do it," he declared, almost coldly.
