"He's the biggest one I ever caught," answered Lew. "He'll make a meal
himself."

"He'll have to," returned Charley. "We can't fish another minute. It's
almost dark now."

Lew slipped his finger down the throat of the gasping fish, and bent the
creature's head sharply back. The trout hung limp in his hand. Then the
two fishermen made their way through the dusky forest to their camp, where
Charley lighted a fire.

"I'll just see what this fellow has been eating," said Lew. "Maybe we can
find out what sort of bait to use." He opened his knife and slit the
fish's belly. "Crabs!" he cried, as his knife blade turned up the remains
of a crayfish. "Now we know what they want."

Soon Charley had a good bed of coals. Lew, meantime, cleaned the fish.
Quickly it was cooked and eaten and the dishes washed. By this time it was
altogether dark.

"Now we'll get some crabs for to-morrow," said Lew.

"Wonder how we can catch them?" queried Charley.

"What we need is a little dip-net. With that and the flash-light we could
get a peck of them. These little streams are full of them."

"Let's try scooping them with a coffee-pot. The lid comes off. If we are
careful, I believe it will answer."