Both men and women asked what kind of bait to use to catch them.  We told them that grass hoppers or crickets was good bait for Mountain Trout, and both of these insects were numerous around the camp.

It was very amusing to me to see the girls run to their mothers to ask if they could go fishing the next day.  They were as excited as if they were asking to go to some great entertainment.

It being Sunday morning and as there was no danger from the Indians, I did not get up very early.  Jim and I occupied the same tent together, which was the blue sky above us and the ground beneath us, a bed that I have no doubt the reader will think a not very desirable one, but rolled in our blankets, a bed on the soft moss with the trees waving over us was as good a bed as Jim and I cared to have, and our sleep was as sound and restful as if we were laying on a bed of down.

When Jim arose in the morning, he gave me a shake and said, “Wake up, Will.  We are going to have fish, for everyone in the camp is hunting grass hoppers,” and it was really an amusing sight to see, for everyone, as Jim had said, was running, trying to catch grass hoppers.  Both men and women were racing about like children.

Jim and I had started to go to the river to take a wash when a little girl came running to us saying, “Papa wants you to come and eat breakfast with us, for we have got fish for breakfast.”

Jim said, “All right, sissy, but I am afraid you haven’t got enough fish to go around.”

She said, “Oh yes we have, for papa caught fifteen this morning, and they are all great big ones.”

So we did not go to the river but went with the little girl to her father’s tent and washed there, and sure enough, there was enough fish for all the family and Jim and me and some left over.

The man laughed and said to Jim, “Mr. Bridger, you made the right remark when you said that the river was full of fish.  I have been fishing all my life, and I never saw so many fish at one time as I saw this morning.  I went down to the river about daylight, and I caught fifteen fish, and I don’t think I was over fifteen minutes in catching them, and I believe they will average two pounds to a fish, and they are as luscious as I ever tasted in the way of fish.”

I asked him if this was his first experience in eating Mountain Trout.  He said it was, but he hoped it would not be his last, and said, “Can you tell me why they have such an extra flavor?” I said, “Certainly, I can.  There is no stream in the world that has purer water than the Truckee river, and do you see that snowcapped mountain yonder?” and I pointed to a mountain at the south west of us which was always covered with snow at the top.  “This stream is surrounded with mountains like that, and the water is cold the year around, no matter how hot the weather may be, and that is the secret of the fine flavor of the fish caught in it.”

And here I must say that, although I had eaten Mountain Trout many times before that morning, I never enjoyed a meal more than I did this one.  As I finished eating, six young girls came to the tent and asked me if I was going fishing.  I said I had thought of going.  They asked if they could go with me, I said, “Certainly, you can if you wish to, but I shall have to go out and hunt some bait before I can go.”