It was not long before Sam felt a tug on his line. He hauled in quickly and found a fair-sized perch.
"Hurrah! first luck!" he cried, his face beaming with pleasure.
"Huh! dot ain't mooch of a fish!" was Han's comment. "Chust vait till you see vot I cotch!"
They continued to troll, and presently Sam hooked a medium-sized pickerel. The fish was game and he had to play it a little before Dick was able to bring it in with the net.
"Say, I guess we had better all try our luck," said Tom. "This sport suits me down to the ground."
"No, Tom, let us get to camp," replied his elder brother. "Remember, we have got to cut poles for the tent and cut firewood, and do a lot of things before we go to bed. You can fish all you please tomorrow."
The boat moved on and soon Hans got a bite. It was another perch, about the size of the one caught by Sam. Then Sam got another, but of a different stripe. Suddenly Hans' line tightened and the German youth stood up in his excitement.
"Vait! I got a pite!" he cried. "Say, dot is a pig feller I guess!" he added.
They stopped in their rowing and watched
