It was close upon half-past five, and all Will's preparations had been
made. Lines of strong cord with hooks bound up the snooding with brass
wire were on their winders. There was a tub half full of tasty
pilchards--damaged ones fresh out of a late boat that had come in that
afternoon. There was another tub full of much more damaged pilchards--
all pounded up for ground bait.
In fact nothing had been forgotten; even three oilskins had been lashed,
in the stern ready for the visitors in case it should rain.
"I say," said Josh, "how about the young gent? I mean him Master Dick
calls Taff?"
"Well, what about him?" said Will.
"Won't he be scared when we gets a conger over the side."
"I never thought of that," said Will musingly. "Oh! I should think
not."
"'Cause we shall be in a gashly pickle if we haul in a big one, and she
scares the youngster out of the boat."
"We must kill them at once," said Will.
"Yes; it's all very well to say kill 'em at once," grumbled Josh; "but
you know what a gashly thing a big conger is to kill."
"Yes; he won't lie still and be killed sometimes," said Will laughing.
"Ah! well, perhaps we sha'n't catch any at all."
"Oh, yes! we shall, and gashly big uns too. Hadn't we better leave
young Arthur behind--'tother won't be feared?"
"No; it's too late now," said Will. "Here they are;" for just then the
brothers came along the pier, and after Arthur had stepped in rather a
dignified way down into the boat, Dick leaped in and insisted upon
taking an oar.
The boat was pushed off at once, and while Will and Dick were rowing
Josh had to answer Arthur Temple's questions.
"Are those the lines?" he said, gazing at them curiously.
"Yes, sir; and we've got some oilskin aprons for you to put on, so as
you sha'n't get wet."
"Aprons!" cried Arthur aghast.
"Yes, sir; they be good uns too."
"I shall not put on an apron," was upon Arthur's lips, but he did not
say it; and just then his attention was taken by a short thick
truncheon, with a curious notch or fork at the handle end.
"What's that for?"
"Little end's disgorger," said Josh; "t'other's to knock the congers
down with."
"To knock the congers down!" cried Arthur aghast.
"Yes, when we get hold of a big one. They're gashly strong, sir."
"Why, how big are they?" cried Arthur.
"Five foot, six foot, seven foot sometimes," said Josh coolly.
Arthur's first thought was to say, "Here, take me back;" but he caught
his brother's eye, and suppressed the words.
"I--I did not know they were so big as that," he faltered, though he
tried to say it with firmness and a show of resolve.
"They run big, sir, off our coast, and we get some gashly fellows,
often," said Josh innocently; "but you see, big as they are, men's
stronger, and boys too. Why, our Will would tackle any conger as ever
swam about a rock. Takes hold of disgorger like this, you know, and
gives one on the head, and that quiets 'em while we get the hook out."
"With--with the disgorger?" said Arthur.
"That's it, Master Taff," said Josh.
"My name is Arthur--Arthur Temple," said the boy haughtily.
"'Course it is, sir; I ought to have known," said Josh. "It was along
of Master Dick, there, calling you by t'other name. As I was saying,"
he continued hastily, "Will there gives them a tap with the disgorger,
and then holds them under his boot, runs this here down till it touches
the hook where they've swallowed it, takes a turn or two of the line
round the handle and twists the hook out."
"Why don't you take the hook out properly--the same as I should from a
fish?"
"What--with your fingers, sir?"
"Of course."
"A mussy me!" said Josh. "Why, don't you know how a conger can bite?"
"Bite! No," said Arthur, turning pale. "Can they bite?"
"Bite!" cried Josh. "Why, love your heart, young gentleman, look ye
here. See this?"
He held up one of the hooks at the end of the conger-line and showed the
boy that not only was it very large, and tied on strong cord with a
swivel or two, but it was bound from the shank some distance up the line
with brass wire.
"Yes, I can see it," said Arthur, "of course. Isn't it too big? A fish
would not take a great awkward thing like that in its mouth."
"Won't it?" said Josh laughing. "But it will if you put a pilchar' on
it. That there wire as is run round the line is to keep the congers
from biting it in two."
"Oh! but, Josh, a conger wouldn't bite through a line like that, would
he?" cried Dick as he tugged at his oar.
"Just as easy, sir, as you would through a bit o' cotton after you'd
sewed a button on your shirt."
"Why, they must be regular nippers!" cried Dick.
"Nippers, sir? Why, they go at a big dead fish if it's lying in the
water, take a good mouthful, and then set their long bodies and tails to
work, and spin round and round like a gimlet or a ship augur, and bore
the piece right out."
"Oh! I say, Josh, don't you know! He's making that story up, isn't he,
Will?"
"No," said Will seriously; "it is quite true. Congers have a way of
spinning themselves round like that. Don't you see those swivels on the
line?"
"Yes," said Dick, "I see 'em."
"That's because the congers spin round so. If we did not use swivels
they'd twist the line all in a tangle before you could get them out."
"Why, they're regular sea-serpents," said Dick.
"Well, no," said Josh; "they ain't so big as sea-sarpents, because they
say they're hundreds o' yards long. I never see one, but I've heerd say
so; but congers will bite and no mistake. I had one ketch me by the
boot once, and he bit right through the leather."
All this while they were rowing farther and farther from the shore, on
about as lovely an evening as it was possible to imagine, and the warm
glow of the sunshine prevented Arthur's face from looking ghastly white.
He felt that he must beg of them to turn back directly--that he dared
not go farther; and yet there was a greater fear still to keep him
silent. If he begged of them to row back they would laugh at him for a
coward, and he could not bear this.
"Fishing!" he thought; why, it was like going to attack some horrible
pack of sea-monsters in their rocky fastnesses; and instead of being
dressed in flannels, he felt that he ought to be clothed in complete
armour. Why, if a conger could bite through a line, what would he think
of flannel trousers? And if one got tight hold of his flesh, what would
be the consequences?
Arthur sat there with his mouth dry and his eyes staring as, in
imagination, he saw one of the great slimy creatures twisting itself
round and round, and cutting a great piece out of one of his legs; and
it was all he could do to keep from shuddering with fear.
And all the while there was Dick with a red face, and his hat stuck
right at the back of his head, tugging away at his oar, and smiling at
all Josh said.
"I must try and be as brave as Dick is," Arthur said to himself; and
forcing his teeth firmly together, he began to plan in his own mind what
he would do if Dick caught a conger. He would have his penknife ready
in his hand, and pretend to help pull in the line; and while he was
doing this he would cut it and the monster would swim away.
"Don't you be scared about the congers, Master Taffarthur, sir," said
Josh kindly. "They be gashly ugly things to tackle sometimes, but--"
"I'm not afraid," said Arthur indignantly.
"Not you, sir. Why should you be?" said Josh. "We can manage them. A
big one has a nasty way of his own of getting loose in the boat and
wriggling himself all about under the thwarts--"
Arthur involuntarily began to draw up his legs, as he felt as if one
were already loose in the bottom of the boat.
"But just you look ye here," continued Josh, opening the little locker
in the stern of the boat. "This is how I serves the big jockeys who'd
be likely to give any trouble. I just give them a cut behind the head
with this little fellow, and then they lie quiet enough."
As he spoke he showed Arthur a little axe with a very small head, and an
edge as keen as a knife.
"That's too much for congers," added Josh.
"I say, how cruel to the poor things!" said Dick laughingly; but Josh
took it in the most serious way.
"Well, I have thought that 'bout the gashly conger, Master Dick, sir,"
said Josh; "but I don't know as it be. You see, they're caught, and it
puts 'em out of their misery, like, at once."
"But it's cruel to catch them," said Dick.
Josh scratched his head.
"A mussy me, Master Dick, sir! that's a thing as has puzzled me lots o'
times when I've been hooking and killing fish; but then, you see, it's
for victuals, and everybody's got to live."
"So have the fish," laughed Dick.
"So they have, sir; but you see here, I catches and kills a conger, or a
pollack, or a gurnet, or a bass. Suppose I hadn't killed it--what
then?"
"Why, it would be swimming about in the sea as happy as could be."
"Yes, Master Dick, sir; but what else would it be doing?"
"Basking in the sunshine, Josh."
"P'r'aps so, sir; but, a mussy me! he'd be chasing and hunting and
eating hundreds of little fish every day; so you see if I catches one
big one, I saves hundreds of little ones' lives."
"I never thought of that," said Dick.
"Josh and I have often talked about it," said Will seriously. "It seems
cruel to catch and kill things; but they are always catching and killing
others, and every bird and fish you see here is as cruel as can be.
There goes a cormorant; he'll be swimming and diving all day long
catching fish, so will the shags; and all those beautiful grey-and-white
gulls you can see on the rock there, live upon the fish they catch on
the surface of the water."
"Then if we keep the congers from catching and killing other fishes and
eating them, why, it's being very kind, and isn't cruel at all," said
Dick merrily; and then he sent a cold chill down his brother's spine by
saying, "Let's look sharp and catch all the big ones we can."
"Now, you two take a rest," said Josh, "and I'll put her along a bit;"
and changing places with the rowers, Josh handled the oars with such
effect that in about half an hour they were approaching a tall mass of
rock that had seemed at a distance to be part of the cliff-line, but
which the visitors could now see to be quite a quarter of a mile from
where the waves were beating the shore.