An eel-mother and her son were lying at the bottom of the sea, close to
the landing-stage, watching a young fisherman getting ready his line.
“Just look at him!” said the eel-mother, “there you have an example of
the malice and cunning of the world.... Watch him! He is holding a whip
in his hand; he throws out the whip-lash--there it is! attached to it is
a weight which makes it sink--there’s the weight! and below the weight
is the hook with the worm. Don’t take it in your mouth, whatever you
do, for if you do, you are caught. As a rule only the silly bass and
red-eyes take the bait. There! Now you know all about it.”
The forest of seaweed with its shells and snails began to rock; a
plashing and drumming could be heard and a huge red whale passed like
a flash over their heads; he had a tail-fin like a cork-screw, and that
was what he worked with.
“That’s a steamer,” said the eel-mother; “make room!”
She had hardly spoken these words when a furious uproar arose above.
There was a tramping and stamping as if the people overhead were intent
on building a bridge between the shore and the boat in two seconds. But
it was difficult to see anything on account of the oil and soot which
were making the water thick and muddy.
There was something very heavy on the bridge now, so heavy that it made
it creak, and men’s voices were shouting:
“Lift it up!--Ho, there!--Up!--Hold tight!--Up with it!--Up!--Push it
along!--Lift it up!”
Then something indescribable happened. First it sounded as if sixty
piles of wood were all being sawn at the same time; then a cleft opened
in the water which went down to the bottom of the sea, and there, wedged
between three stones, stood a black box, which sang and played and
tinkled and jingled, close to the eel-mother and her son, who hastily
disappeared in the lowest depths of the ocean.