"Oh!" shouted Arthur; "oh! something's pulling me out of the--"
Boat he would have said, for he had turned the line round his right-hand
to keep the lead from the bottom; and all at once it had seemed to him
that there was a slight quiver of the line; then it was drawn softly a
little way, and then there was a heavy sustained pull that took his arm
over the side, and he seemed as if he were about to follow it, only Josh
leaned towards him, and took hold of the line beyond his hand.
"Untwist it, my lad; don't turn it round your fingers like that. That's
right. Now, take hold with both hands."
"But I can't hold it!" cried Arthur, who was shivering with excitement.
"Oh, yes! you can, my lad," said Josh coolly. "I'll show you. Now,
hold tight."
Arthur clung to the line with both hands in desperation; and it seemed
to him that the great fish at the end of it was trying to draw his
shoulders out of their sockets.
"It's too hard. It cuts my hands. It's horrible!"
"Let him go, then," said Josh laughing; "there's plenty of line. Let it
run through your hands."
"It burns them," cried Arthur desperately. "Ah!" he exclaimed with a
sigh of delight, "it's gone!"
"Haul in the line, then!" said Josh grimly, while Will, who knew what it
meant, touched Dick on the shoulder so that he should watch.
Arthur began to haul in the slack line for a few feet, and then he
shouted again:
"Here's another one bigger than the last!" he cried. "I cannot hold
it."
"Let it go, then," said Josh; and Arthur once more slackened the line,
which ran fast for a yard, and then fell loose.
"He's gone now!" said Arthur, hauling in the line; and then in a tone of
voice so despairing that his brother burst into a hearty laugh: "Here's
another at it now!"
"I say, what a place this is, Taff!" cried Dick. "Here, let me help
you!"
"No, no," cried Josh; "you let him ketch the conger himself. Slacken,
my lad."
As if moved by a spring, or disciplined to obey the slightest word of
command, Arthur slackened the line.
"Now, then, haul again," cried Josh; and the boy pulled in the line
eagerly, as if moved by the idea that the sooner he got the hook out of
the water the less likelihood would there be of its being seized by one
or other of the monsters that inhabited the rocky hole.
"He has got it again!" cried Arthur in tones of anguish; "he'll pull me
in!"
"Oh, no, he won't; you're a-going to pull him out, if he don't mind his
eye," said Josh sturdily. "You've got some brains, young gentleman, and
he arn't."
"But there must be a swarm there after my bait," pleaded Arthur.
"Not there," cried Josh. "There's one got it."
"But I've had three or four on, and they've gone again."
"Oh, no! you haven't," said Josh; "conger eels often do like that. You
pull hard; he pulls hard and tries to get to the bottom. You slack the
line, and as there's nobody pulling up, he comes to see what's the
matter. Now, slacken!"
Arthur let the line run.
"Now haul again."
The boy drew in the line, and gained nearly twice as much as he had let
out before there was a tremendous drag again, and as Arthur held on with
both hands his arms quivered.
"Ease him a little--now pull--ease again--now pull!" cried Josh, over
and over, till, giving and taking like this, Arthur had drawn the heavy
lead nearly to the surface of the water, and for a moment he thought the
dark little object going here and there was the eel; but directly after
he saw a great wavy blue-black line some feet down, and that all at once
turned to one that was creamy white, then dark, then light again, as the
conger writhed over and over.
"I've got one too!" cried Dick; and his attention, like that of Will,
was taken from what went on upon the starboard side of the boat, leaving
Arthur to the care of Josh.
"Josh!--please," faltered Arthur, as he clung to the line in an agony of
dread, too much alarmed now even to let go. "Josh--pray--pray cut the
line!"
"No, no, no! you don't mean that," whispered back Josh encouragingly.
"You mean get my little axe, and kill my gentleman as soon as he's
aboard."
"Yes, yes. No, no," whispered Arthur. "Pray, pray, don't bring that
horrible thing into the boat!"
"Not till he's dead, you mean," said Josh, in a low voice, so that Dick
and Will could not hear. "You're not scared of a gashly old conger like
that? You hang on to the line, my lad. You've got plenty of pluck,
only you arn't used to it. Now, you see, ease him a bit."
Arthur involuntarily slackened the line, and the eel ceased its backward
drag and swam up.
"Now, haul again--just a bit," said Josh, standing there with the gaff
in his perfect hand, keen axe in the deformed.
Arthur obeyed and dragged the writhing serpentine creature close to the
surface. Then, quick as thought, Josh had the great snaky fish by the
head with his short sharp gaff-hook, drew it over the gunwale, and
before Arthur could realise what was done the axe had descended with a
dull thud, and Josh dragged the quivering half inert conger over the
side and forward, clear of the line and away from Arthur.
"There!" cried Josh, as he cleverly extricated the hook with the
disgorger; "you come and look at him, Master Arthur. He can't bite now,
and I'm holding him down."
There was so much quiet firmness in the fisherman's words that Arthur
felt himself constrained to go forward and look at the great snaky fish
as it heaved and curved its springy body in the bottom of the boat.
"A reg'lar good fat one," said Josh. "She be a bit ugly, sure enough,
and I've seen many a boy in my time scared by the gashly things. It was
your first one, Master Arthur, and you caught him, and I say as you
warn't a bit scared."
"I--I couldn't help being a little afraid," said Arthur slowly; "but
look! look! it's biting the rope."
"Ay, but it has no strength to bite now," said Josh. "There, we'll put
um in the well, and let um lie there. You caught um--fine
eight-and-thirty pound if it be an ounce. Now you shall catch another."
"What!" gasped Arthur.
"I say, now you shall catch another," said Josh sturdily, as he leaned
over the side and washed disgorger, axe, and hook. "You won't mind half
so much next time, and then your brother won't be able to crow over
you."
"I don't want to catch any more, thank you," said Arthur.
"Oh, yes, you do," said Josh, in his quiet stubborn fashion. "Don't you
say you don't. It won't be half so startling ketching the next one, and
I've got a tender well-beaten bit of squid for the next bait--one as
will tempt the biggest conger that is in the hole."
"No, no!" whispered Arthur. "I don't want to fish any more; I don't
indeed."
"Hush!" whispered Josh; "you'll have them hear."
Arthur was silent directly, and just then his fright was at its height
with the conger that Dick had hooked, and that Will gaffed and hauled
in. For as Will struck at it with the conger-bat or club, instead of
there coming a dull thud as the blow fell, there was the sharp tap of
wood upon wood.
Will had missed this time, and the conger was apparently starting on a
voyage of discovery about the boat.
Arthur shrank back, but before the fish could come his way and tangle
the lines Will caught Dick's about a yard above the hook, dragged the
fish towards the stern, and gave it four or five paralysing blows in
succession, disabling it, so that he soon had the hook out, and he and
Dick stood looking at each other and panting with excitement.
"Hor--hor--hor!" laughed Josh quietly as he seated himself on the thwart
and leisurely began to pass the hook through the grey piece of tough
soft cuttle-fish. "Look at 'em, Master Rawthur, there be a fuss over a
conger not above half as big as ourn."
"It was ever so much stronger," cried Dick indignantly.
"Hear him, Mast Rorthur!" cried Josh. "Hor--hor--hor! There, go on,
you two. We're going to give you a startler this time. There you are,
sir," he whispered, holding up the bait for Arthur to see. "That's one
as'll tempt um, and you see we'll have another big one before they know
where they are. I say, you won't be scared of the next, will you, now?"
"I'll--I'll try not to be," whispered Arthur, drawing a long breath.
"Then you won't be," whispered Josh. "That's the way: in with the lead.
Of course they're awk'ard things for any boy to tackle at first. I was
downright frightened first one I hooked, when I was 'bout as old as you,
and it warn't above half the size of the one you ketched."
"Were you really frightened of it?" said Arthur in the same low tone.
"Frightened, Master Taffarthur! Why, my cap come off and fell in the
water, and I had to up with the killick and row after it."
"But that didn't show you were frightened."
"Didn't it though, sir? Why, it was my hair rose up in such a gashly
way it lifted it off. There, now, hold steady, and it won't be long
before you have a bite."
It was getting so dark now that Arthur could not see whether Josh was
laughing at him or not, though for the matter of that, if it had been
noontide, he would not have been able to make out the rough fisherman's
thoughts by the expression of his countenance.
A splash from behind them told them that Dick's bait had just gone in,
and then they sat--both couples--chatting away in a low tone, and
waiting for the next congers, and somehow waiting in vain. The last
glow faded out of the sky, and the stars twinkled in the sea, where they
were reflected from above. The great black bird rock stood up, looking
gigantic against the western sky, and every now and then there was a
querulous cry that set a party of the sea-birds scolding and squealing
for a few minutes before all was still again.
In the distance across the bay the lights of the harbour shone out
faintly at first, then clearly, and the various lamps about the village
seemed like dull stars.
Still there was no bite, and Arthur rejoiced in his heart, hoping that
they would catch no more, and thinking how horrible it would have been
to have one of the monsters on board in the dark.
Josh had changed the position of Arthur's line several times, and at
last he took hold of it and began to haul it in.
"Going to leave off?" said Arthur joyously.
"No, my lad, not yet. You won't mind me throwing in for you?"
"Oh no!" cried the boy.
"Then," said Josh, "I'm just going to throw over yonder into the deepest
part, and if we don't get one out of there we may give up."
Drawing in and laying the line carefully in rings, he took the weight
and threw it some distance from them, the lead falling with a heavy
plash. Then Dick and Will followed suit on their side, and Arthur was
compelled to take the line again from Josh, for the latter said:
"Oh no! I'm not going to fish. I can have a turn any day, my lad. Go
on, and we'll show 'em this time what it is to fish again' us. A mussy
me! we'll give 'em a startler directly. We'll show 'em what conger be."
Arthur's hands felt cold and damp as he sat there holding: the line and
thinking of what would be the consequences if he hooked a monster and
Josh failed to kill it before dragging it on board. It would run all
over the boat, and it would be sure to bite him first--he knew it would;
and the idea was horrible, making him so nervous that his hands shook as
he held the line.
It was quite dark now, but a beautiful transparent darkness, with the
sky one glorious arch of glittering points, and the sea a mirror in
which those diamond sparks were reflected. The phosphorescence that had
been so beautiful on the night when his brother was out with Josh and
Will was absent, save a faint pale glow now and then, seen when a wave
curled over and broke upon the great bird rock. All was wonderfully
still, and they sat for some time listening to the distant singing of
some of the fishermen, whose voices sounded deliciously soft and
melodious as the tones of the old west-country part-song floated over
the heaving sea.
Suddenly Arthur started, for Dick exclaimed:
"This is just lovely. I wish father were here."
"Ay! I wish he weer," said Josh. "I often pity you poor people who
come from big towns and don't know what it is to be in such a place as
this. Beautiful, arn't it, Master Rorthur, sir?"
"Ye-es," said Arthur, "it's a beautiful night."
"Ay, it be," assented Josh; "and in a snug harbour like this there's no
fear of a steamer or ship coming to run you down."
Arthur shuddered.
"Rather awkward for them among the rocks, eh, Josh?" said Will.
"Awk'ard arn't the word," said Josh. "'Member the Cape packet being
wrecked here, my lad?"
"Oh, yes! I recollect it well," said Will. "It was just here, wasn't
it?"
"Just yonder," said Josh. "She went on the rocks about ten fathom
beyond where our grapnel lies."
"Was anyone hurt?" said Arthur, who shivered at the idea of a wreck
having been anywhere near them.
"Hurt, my lad? Why, it was in one of the worst storms I can 'member.
Tell him about the poor souls, Will."
"The packet ran right on the rocks, Master Arthur," said Will solemnly.
"Where we are is one mass of tossing foam in a storm, and the froth and
spray fly over the Mew Rock here. Directly the packet had struck a
great wave came in and lifted her right up and then dropped her again
across the ridge yonder, and she broke right in two."
"Like a radish," said Josh.
"And one end went down in the deep water one side, the other end the
other side."
"Ay," said Josh, "it's very deep water out there, and they used to be at
work regular for months and months getting out the cargo and engines
when the weather was calm."
"But the people--the people?" cried Arthur. "What became of them?"
"Hah!" ejaculated Josh. "What come o' them?"
"Were they drowned?" said Dick.
"Every poor creature on board," said Will.
"And none of you fishermen went out in your boats to help them?" cried
Dick indignantly.
"Just hark at him," cried Josh. "A mussy me! He's never seed the sea
in a storm when--Look out, Master Awthur," he whispered.
It was pretty dark, but Josh's eyes were accustomed to that transparent
gloom, and he had noted a tremulous motion of the boy's line almost
before Arthur started, for there was a gentle, insidious touch at his
bait that telegraphed along the line to his fingers, and then drew it
softly through them as the fish, whatever it was, took the bait and
began to swim away.
Arthur started as Josh whispered to him, and his fingers closed upon the
line.
The moment before this latter was moving as if some tiny fish were
drawing it from him; but the moment his closing hands checked the line's
progress there was a tremendous jerk and a rush; and as, in spite of
himself, Arthur held on, it seemed as if a boy a good deal stronger than
himself were trying to pull it out of his hands, and after a few furious
struggles seated himself, to hang at the end with his whole weight.
"I told you so," said Josh in satisfied tones. "I knowed as well as
could be that there would be a big one down yonder, and I think it is a
big one, eh, Master Rawthur."
"It's--it's a monster," panted Arthur. "Hadn't we better let it go?"
"Let it do what?" cried Josh. "A mussy me! what do he mean?"
"Oh! I say, Taff, you are a lucky one," cried Dick in genuine
disappointed tones. "On! all right, we've got one too."
"Lucky one!" At that moment Arthur was bitterly repenting his want of
foresight. Both hands were engaged now or he might have got out his
pocketknife and, unseen by Josh in the darkness, have cut the line,
which would have been supposed to be broken by the violent struggles of
the great eel.
"I'll never come again," he thought to himself, "if ever I get safely
back. I would not have come if I had known. Oh! what shall I do?"
These are a specimen or two of the thoughts that ran through Arthur
Temple's brains as he clung desperately to the line with the conger or
whatever it was at the end tugging and jerking at it hard enough to make
the boy's shoulders sore.
"Steady! steady!" cried Josh, interfering. "That's not the way to ketch
conger. Give him line, as I showed you afore. There, you see," he
continued, as Arthur slackened the cord. "Eh, 'ullo! Why, what's up?"
he exclaimed. "Here, give me hold."
Arthur passed the line to him with a sigh of intense relief, and Josh
gave way, hauled, and tried three or four different little plans before
passing the line back to Arthur.
"Here, you ketch hold," he cried. "It's a big one and no mistake. He
has got his tail twisted round a bit of rock, or he's half in a hole, or
something. Don't let him shake you like that, my lad, but give him line
when he snatches you. He's half in a hole as sure as can be, and if we
hauled we should only break the line."
"What are we to do?" said Arthur, his words coming in pants. "Shall we
leave the line and go?"
"Leave the line, my lad!" cried Josh. "Well, that arn't very likely.
No, no: lines are too vallerble, and instead of giving the conger the
line, we'll get him aboard."
"But how? It won't come," said Arthur peevishly.
"You must coax him same as I showed you before. Fishers wants
patience--waiting for what they catches, undoing tangles in nets and
lines, and dealing with conger. Don't you see, my lad, if you haul so
does the conger: he's frightened, and he fights for his life; but as
soon as you leave off hauling, so does he, and begins to uncurve and
untwist himself. Then's your time to haul him out of the rocks, before
he has time to anchor himself again."
It seemed to Arthur as if he had no power to disobey Josh. Shame, too,
supported the fisherman, for the boy had a horror of being supposed a
coward, so he acted precisely as Josh told him, giving and taking with
the line, but for some time without avail, and Arthur piteously asked if
it was of any use to go on.
"Use! I should think so," cried Josh. "Why, he's a big one, and we've
got to ketch him. Now haul, my lad, steady."
Arthur obeyed, and the violent jerking of the line began just as if the
great eel were making snatches at it.
"Now, give way, quick and sharp," cried Josh.
The boy did so, letting the line run over the side.
"I told you so," cried Josh, as it ran faster and faster. "He's going
away now. He's left his hole. Now lay hold, and get him to the top
quick as you can. He'll come up now."
Josh was right, for the eel had left the rocks, intending to swim away,
and when it felt the line once more it began to struggle, but on the
tension being eased it swam upwards. And so on again and again, till
the pale under parts of the great fish could be seen below the surface,
which was swirling and eddying with the strong motions of the muscular
tail.
"He is a big one," cried Josh. "Got yours in, lads?"
"Yes," cried Will.
"Give us room then," cried Josh. "Hold on tight, youngster. No, no,
Will: we can do him ourselves."
For Will had changed his position to take the line from Arthur, who felt
as if he should have liked to kick the fisherman for interfering at such
a time.
Acting like a machine in Josh's hands, Arthur slackened and hauled, and
hauled and slackened, until the great eel was right at the surface, and
Josh leaning over the gunwale, waiting his opportunity to hook it with
the great gaff; but though he made two or three attempts Arthur was so
helpless that he rather hindered than aided the capture. At last,
though, by a clever stroke Josh hooked the monster, and stretched out
his hand for his little axe.
As he did so there was a tremendous beating and splashing of the water,
and the eel literally twisted itself into a knot upon the gaff, forming
a great writhing bunch upon the shaft, and mingling line and self about
the hook in the most confusing manner.
Arthur had behaved as well as he could, but this was too much for him.
Dropping the line, he let himself fall backwards over the seat,
scrambled forward on hands and knees, rose up, and was getting into the
narrow portion of the boat in the bows, when he stepped upon something
slippery and fell right upon a living eel, the one Dick had just
captured.
"Oh, oh!" yelled Arthur, starting up and bounding back amidships, to
fall once more, with his hands upon the huge slimy knot that Josh had
just dragged on board.
"A mussy me!" groaned Josh, as he vainly tried to get a stroke at the
great eel's head with the axe. "Here, look alive, Will, lad; give him
the bat." Dick followed his brother's example and got as far out of the
way as he could, while quite an exciting fight went on, if fight it can
be called where the offence comes entirely from one side, and the other
is winding in and out among legs and seats, fishing-lines and baskets,
trying to get away. It was so dark that it was next to impossible to
see where the monster was; and though Will struck at it fiercely with
the bat, he more often struck the boat than the fish.
Josh, too, made some cuts at it with the axe, but he only missed, and he
was afraid to do more for fear he should drive the weapon through the
bottom of the boat.
"She's free o' the line now," cried Josh, who was not aware that one
chop he had given had divided the stout cord. "Let her go now, Will,
lad. She won't get out of the boat."
"All right!" said Will coolly; and Arthur uttered a groan; but just
then, to his great relief, Dick spoke out.
"What! are you going to leave that thing crawling about in the boat
while we go home?" he said.
"Ay, my lad; she won't hurt."
"Thankye," said Dick. "I'm going overboard then to be towed."
"Hor--hor--hor!" laughed Josh. "Well, all right, my lad, we'll light
the lanthorn, and then p'r'aps I can get a cut at her. Where's the
matches, Will? Hallo!"
For just then there was a tremendous scuffling in the fore part of the
boat, as the great eel forced itself amongst the spare rope and odds and
ends of the fishing gear. Then there was a faint gleam seen for a
moment on the gunwale, and a splash, and then silence.
"Why, she's gone," cried Josh.
"What! Over the side?" cried Dick.
"Ay, lad, sure enough; and the biggest one we took to-night, and my best
conger-hook in her mouth."
Arthur uttered a sigh of relief that was almost a sob, and sitting down
very quietly he listened to the talking of his three companions, as the
anchor and killick were got up, and the boat was rowed across the starry
bay, to reach the landing-place about half an hour before the expected
time, Mr Temple being in waiting, and pacing to and fro upon the pier.
"Caught any?" he said.
"Yes, father, lots, but the big one got away," cried Dick.
"How did you get on, Arthur?" said Mr Temple. "Were you very much
alarmed?"
Arthur would have honestly said, "Yes;" but before he could speak, Josh
exclaimed:
"'Haved hisself like a trump, sir. Him and me got all the big uns; and
it's no joke ketching your first conger, as p'r'aps you know."