The line cut the water in a broad semicircle and then went far and near with long, quick slashes.

The pole nodded and writhed like a thing of life.

Then Uncle Eb had a look on him that is one of the treasures of my memory.

In a moment the fish went away with such a violent rush, to save him, he had to throw his pole into the water.
'Heavens an' airth!' he shouted, 'the ol' settler!' The pole turned quickly and went lengthwise into the rapids.

He ran down the bank and I after him.