George Manville Fenn,
Mass' George: A Boy's Adventures in the Old Savannah
“ I said, for Pomp had rushed off to get the bait.“Bring us a bit o’ fish. Be quite a treat.”Half an hour after Pomp and I were pulling up the river close in beneath the over-spreading boughs, ready to shout for joy as the golden sunbeams came down through the leaves and formed a lace-work of glory on the smooth deep water. Every now and then there was a familiar rustle and a splash, a flapping of wings, and a harsh cry as a heron or stork rose from his fishing-ground; then some great hawk hovered over the stream, or we caught sight of the yellow and orange of the orioles. ”
