"A GASHLY GREAT FISH IN THE NET."
There was quite enough interesting business to see after breakfast to
make Mr Temple disposed to go out to the great seine, so that when,
about eleven, Will came to the inn to say that he was just going out to
the men, if Master Dick or Master Arthur would like to come, their
father readily accepted the invitation for all three. So they were
rowed out, to find the men very busy at work in boats beside the great
circle of corks, shooting a smaller seine inside the big one; and this
being at last completed, the small seine was drawn close, the lower rope
contracted, and the fish huddled together so closely that a small boat
was at work amongst them, the men literally dipping the struggling fish
out of the water with huge landing-nets and baskets, the water flying,
and the silvery, pearly fish sparkling in the sun.
It was a most animated scene, for as a boat was loaded she went ashore,
and the fish were rapidly counted, thrust into small stout hampers, tied
down, and loaded on to carts waiting for their freight, and then off and
away to the railway-station almost before the fish were dead.
Josh and Will stood high in the good graces of the seine men for their
help that morning, so that there was quite a welcome for the party in
the boat as the corked line was pressed down, and Josh took the boat
right into the charmed circle where the fish were darting to and fro in
wild efforts to escape through the frail yielding wall of net that held
them so securely.
"I've got a net ready for you," said Will, drawing a strong landing-net
from under a piece of sail and handing it to Dick, who was soon after
busily at work dashing it in and capturing the lovely arrowy fish in
ones and twos and threes. Once he caught five at once, and drew them
inboard for his father to admire the brilliancy of the colours upon the
live fish, and the lovely purple ripple marks that died away on the
sides in a sheen of pink and silver and gold.
Now and then other fish were netted, but fish that had been surrounded
with the mackerel. Several times over little stumpy red mullet were
seen--brilliant little fish, and then grey mullet--large-scaled silvery
fish with tiny mouths and something the aspect, on a large scale, of a
river dace.
The fishermen found time to good-naturedly call Josh when any particular
prize of this kind was found, and the Temples had not been there long
before, flapping, gasping, and staring, a very monster of ugliness was
taken out in a landing-net, along with a score of mackerel.
This flat-sided, great-eyed, big-headed creature, with a huge back fin,
and general ugliness painted in it everywhere, had a dark mark on either
side of the body; and though arrayed and burnished here and there with
metallic colours, the fish was so grotesque that its beauties were quite
ignored.
"Ah! our friend John-Dory--Jean Dore, as the French call him--gilded
John," said Mr Temple. "A delicacy, but not a handsome fish. Look at
the thumb and finger marks upon his side."
"Oh! but those are not finger marks," cried Dick.
"No," said his father, "but they are quite near enough in appearance to
make people say that this is the fish Peter caught, and held between his
finger and thumb while he opened its mouth."
"Here y'are, sir!" shouted a fisherman. "Young gents like to see this?"
Josh rowed the boat alongside and Dick held his net, while the fisherman
laughingly turned into it from his own a great jelly-fish, as clear as
crystal and glistening in the sun with iridescent colours of the
loveliest hue.
"Oh, what a beauty!" cried Dick. "Look, father, look!"
"Yes; keep it in the water, you will see it to the best advantage
there."
Dick doused the jelly-fish down into the sun-lit waters, and then they
could see its wonderful nature.
In size it was as big as a skittle-ball or a flat Dutch cheese, though a
better idea of its shape may be obtained by comparing it to a
half-opened mushroom whose stalk had been removed, and where beautifully
cut leafy transparencies took the place of the mushroom gills.
No sooner was it in the water than it began to swim, by expanding, and
contracting itself with such facility that, but for the meshes of the
net, it would soon have taken its wondrous hanging fringes and delicate
soap-bubble hues out of sight.
"Better not touch it," said Will, as Dick was about to place his hand
beneath the curious object.
"Why not?" asked Arthur sharply.
"Because they sting," replied Will. "Some sting more than others.
Perhaps that does, sir."
Arthur glanced at his father, who nodded his head.
"Yes; I believe he is right," said Mr Temple. "It is a curious fact in
natural history. We need not test it to see if it is correct."
"Look, look!" cried Dick; "here's a pollack like I caught. Oh! do look
at its bright colours, father; but what shall we do with the
jelly-fish?"
"Let it go. We cannot save it. In an hour or two there would be
nothing left but some dirty film."
The pollack was then examined, with all its glories of gold, bronze, and
orange. Then there was a skipping, twining, silvery, long-nose that
could hardly be kept in the net, a fish that looked remarkably like an
eel, save for its regularly shaped mackerel tail, and long beak-like
nose. Sea-bream were the next--ruddy looking, large-eyed fish, not much
like their fellows of the fresh water, even what were called the black
bream--dark, silvery fellows, similar in shape, bearing but a small
resemblance to the fish the brothers had often caught in some river or
stream in a far-off home county.
Dick's eyes glistened with pleasure; and waking up more and more to the
fact that the finding of fresh kinds of fish gave the boy intense
delight, Will kept eagerly on the look-out.
"Here, hi! Throw that over here, Michael Pollard," cried Will.
"It be only a gashly scad," said the great, black-bearded fisherman; and
he turned the fish good-humouredly into Dick's landing-net.
"Why, it's a kind of mackerel-looking fish," said Dick, as he examined
his fresh prize.
"Ah! mind how you touch it!" cried Will, "it is very sharp and prickly."
"All right!" said Dick. "Oh! I say, though, it is sharp."
"Well, you were warned," said Mr Temple, as Dick applied a bleeding
finger to his mouth.
"Yes, but I did not know it was so sharp as that," said Dick. "Don't
you touch it, Taff;" and this time he turned the fish over more
carefully, to see that it was much the same shape as an ordinary
mackerel, but broader of body and tail, and less graceful of outline,
while its markings and tints would not compare with those of the
ordinary mackerel, and it was provided, as Dick had found, with some
very keen spines.
"What do you call this?" said Arthur, rather importantly.
"Scad, sir--horse-mackerel," cried Will.
"Are they good to eat?" said Arthur.
Will shook his head.
"They taste strong, and they say they're not wholesome, sir," replied
Will. "Look, they've just caught a bass."
The beautiful silvery fish was passed on by one of the fishermen, and
the brilliant scales and sharp, perch-like fin of this favourite fish
were being examined, when a violent splashing and commotion told of the
presence of something larger in the net.
Whatever it was it escaped for the time; but ten minutes later it was
caught in another net, a large, vigorous-looking fish, which made a bold
effort to escape, but instead of leaping back into the sea fell into the
bottom of one of the boats, where one of the fishermen gave it three or
four vigorous blows with a club before he passed it on to Josh, who
ladled it into his own boat with the net borrowed from Dick.
"Hake, sir," he said to Mr Temple. "Right good fish, sir, cooked
anyhow; and I say as good as cod."
"How came that to be in a mackerel shoal?" said Mr Temple.
"Hungry, sir, _I_ should say," replied Josh. "They generally follows
the herring and pilchards, and snatch 'em as they're coming into the
nets. I s'pose this one wanted a bit o' mackerel for a treat."
"About nine pounds, sir, I should say," said Will. "You'd like to keep
it for dinner?"
"Is it good enough?" said Mr Temple smiling.
"Good enough, sir!" cried Will. "Oh, yes! People don't know what a
good fish hake is, or they'd oftener want it in London. There's another
fish that isn't a mackerel, Master Dick. What should you say that is?"
"Don't know," said Dick, looking at a curious pale-green mottled fish of
two or three pounds weight. It was something like a perch in shape, but
longer and more regular, and unprovided with the sharp back fin.
"Do you know what it is, papa?" asked Arthur.
"No, my boy, I am not learned in these west-country fishes. What is it,
my man?"
"It's a rock-fish, sir, that must have lost its way, for they are not
often caught away from the rock," replied Will. "It's the wrasse, sir;
some of them are very brightly coloured."
"'Tain't," said Josh gruffly. "What do you want to tell the gentleman
wrong for? It's a wraagh, sir--a curner."
"They call them _wraaghs_ or _curners_, sir," explained Will, colouring
a little; "but the name in the natural history's wrasse."
"Then nat'ral history's wrong," said Josh, in an ill-used way. "A mussy
me! as if I didn't know what a wraagh was."
"Want any squid, Josh?" cried one of the fishermen.
"Ay, hand 'em over," said Josh. "They'll do for bait."
"Got three of 'em," said the man, dashing his great landing-net about in
the water for some reason that Dick did not understand, and directly
after three curious looking, long, slender creatures of the cuttle-fish
tribe were in Dick's net, and he was just drawing them in
when--_spatter_!--one of them discharged a shower of black inky fluid, a
good deal of which fell upon Arthur's trousers, and filled him with
disgust.
"Bang 'em 'bout a bit in the water, Master Richard, sir," cried Josh.
"He didn't half give it 'em; p'r'aps neither of the others arn't made
their cloud."
Instructed by Will, Dick splashed the net down in the water, with the
result that it became discoloured with a black cloud, another of these
curious looking creatures not having discharged its ink.
"Penanink fish, we calls 'em," said Josh laughing, and turning away his
face, for he could not help enjoying the disgust shown by Arthur.
"Make capital bait, Master Richard," said Will, carefully storing the
squid away in the locker of the boat.
"Here's some cuttle for you too," shouted Pollard; and this time a
couple of cuttle-fish were passed on; but before they reached the boat,
taught by experience, Arthur carefully got behind his father, making him
a shield against the inky shower which did not come.
As soon as it was safe he emerged, though, and eagerly stood looking on
as Dick and his father examined the curious creatures, which looked like
soft bags, with so many sucker-covered arms hanging out all ready to
seize upon the first hapless fish that came their way, and drag them to
their mouths.
"What! is that its mouth?" cried Arthur. "It looks just like a parrot's
beak."
It was a good comparison, for there is great similarity between them.
The short tentacles and the two longer ones, with which the cuttle is
provided, were duly examined, and then they, murderers as they were of
all things that came to their net, were condemned to be eaten in turn.
"Which is only fair, is it, father?" said Dick laughing.
"Quite fair, Dick," he replied. "It seems to be the law of the sea;
every fish eats those less than itself and gets eaten in its turn. The
only thing with them is, that each one has some chance for its life, and
lives as long as it can."
"I see once a very rum kind of a squid," said Josh, who, while the
mackerel catching went on and no more curiosities were turned out,
seemed disposed to be communicative. "Reg'lar great one he was, at low
water out Lizard way."
"Octopus, perhaps," said Mr Temple.
"No, sir--sort o' squid-like, only very different. He was just like a
dirty bag with eight arms hanging away from it, all covered like with
suckers, and there was two great ugly eyes."
"It was an octopus from your description, my man," said Mr Temple.
"Was it now?" said Josh. "Well, I shouldn't wonder, for it was a horrid
gashly thing, and when I saw it first it was sitting in a pool of clear
water, with a rock hanging over it, looking at me with its big eyes, and
filling itself full of water and blowing it out."
"How large was it?"
"'Bout as big as a bladder buoy, sir, with long arms all round
twissening and twining about like snakes; and when I made up my mind
that whether it come out and bit me or whether it didn't, I'd stir it
up, and I poked at it with a stick, if it didn't shut itself up like and
shoot through the water like an umbrella."
"Undoubtedly an octopus," said Mr Temple; "that is its habit."
"Is it now?" said Josh. "Well, I shouldn't have thought it. Seemed
queer like for a thing with eight long legs to go zizzling through the
water like a shut-up umbrella."
"Did you catch it?" said Dick.
"No, Master Ritchard, sir, I didn't ketch it, only poked at it like with
a stick, for it didn't seem good to eat, and it wasn't the sort of thing
you'd care to put in your pocket, even if you'd got one big enough, so I
left it alone."
"I've heard that they grow very large in the neighbourhood of Jersey,"
said Mr Temple.
"Do they, though?" said Josh. "Well, they're gashly things, and I don't
want to know any more of 'em. Squid and cuttle do very well for us
'bout here."
"Squid, as you call them, are found of immense size in the cold seas
towards and in the Arctic circle, large enough, they say, to upset a
boat."
"Then I'm glad this is not the Arctic circle," cried Dick. "Only fancy
having one of those things picking you out of a boat! Ugh!"
He glanced at his brother and then laughed, for Arthur was looking
rather white.
"What say?" roared Josh as loud as he could to a man in a boat close by.
"Gashly great fish in the net," shouted back the man.
"Gashly great fish in the net?" roared Josh.
"Ay; gashly great fish in the net. Mick Polynack see um while ago."
After a few inquiries it was found that the men believed that the great
seine had been drawn round some large fish, possibly a shark, and the
excitement was great when, after emptying the tuck net, it was gathered
in and the great seine drawn closer.
This took a long time, but it was effected at last, the space inclosed
being reduced to less than half the former size, and once more the busy
scene went on, the mackerel being caught by hundreds, counted into
baskets, tied down, and sent off; but though its appearance was eagerly
looked for, no sign was given of the presence of the big fish, whatever
it might be. More bass were found, and scad, and gurnard, and a long,
thin, cod-fish-looking fellow was drawn napping and splashing from the
sea, proving to be a ling. Then there was quite a sight of a little
shoal of gar-fish or long-nose, which played about the top of the water
for some time here and there in a state of excitement; and then there
was a splashing and flashing, and one after the other they threw
themselves over the cork-line and escaped to the open bay.
"What a pity!" cried Arthur.
"Oh! not much, sir. We don't care a very great deal for 'em down here."
More squid, a cuttle or two, and several other fish of the varieties
previously taken; and still, as if the supply was inexhaustible, the
mackerel were ladled out as if from a huge basin with the great
landing-nets.
"There don't seem to be any big fish here," said Dick at last in
disappointed tones, for he had lost all interest in smaller fry since he
had heard the announcement of there being something larger inclosed in
the net.
"I should say it was a shark," said Josh quietly, "he lies so quiet at
the bottom."
The word shark was electrical, and sent a thrill of excitement through
the little party.
"But have you sharks off this coast, my man?" asked Mr Temple.
"Not a great few, sir; but we sees one now and then, and times we hear
of one being ketched."
"You mean dog-fish," said Mr Temple.
"Oh no! I don't, sir," cried Josh. "Real sharks."
"But only small ones."
"Yes, sir, small ones, big as Will there, and big ones, great as me, and
three foot longer. Shouldn't wonder if there was a big one in the net."
"But a large fish such as you speak of would go through the net as if it
were a cobweb."
Will shook his head.
"If the net was tight, sir, and the shark swam right at it, the meshes
would give way; but they don't seem to swim right at them, and the net
goes with the fish like--yields to it--and does not break. It does
sometimes, of course; but we've seen a big fish, a porpoise, regularly
rolled up in a net and tied in so that it couldn't move."
"Like a conger in a trammel," assented Josh. "Fish is very stoopid,
sir, and never thinks of getting out the way they go in."
All this while the seine was being contracted and drawn into the boat,
where it was laid up like some gigantic brown skein, the men who were
gathering it in shaking out the sea-weed and small fish that had
enmeshed themselves and had forced their unfortunate heads in beyond the
gills.
"Here she be," shouted one of the men, as there was a tremendous swirl
in the water close by a boat.
"All right!" said the captain of the seine, "we'll have her bime-by;"
and once more the collecting of the mackerel went on till the tremendous
shoal that had been inclosed had exchanged places, and was pretty well
all in the baskets that were still being rapidly despatched. And all
this time the net had been more and more contracted, the bottom worked
by the ropes, so that it was drawn closer and closer, and at last it was
decided that the next thing to be done was to capture the large fish,
whatever it was, and this they set about, as shall be told.