"A shark!" yelled out Mister Bob, evincing much greater fright than his
sister Nell, although he was very fond of referring to her
contemptuously as "being only a girl," when manly exploits happened to
be the topic of conversation and she chanced to hazard an opinion; and,
at the same instant, he jumped madly from the gunwale of the little
cutter on to the top of her half-deck forwards, climbing from thence
into the lee rigging, where he evidently thought he would be safer. "A
shark! Won't it bite?"
"Aye, by Jove, it will!" said the Captain ironically. "I'd swarm up to
the masthead, if I were you, so as to be out of harm's way. You needn't
mind your sister or any of us down here. We can take care of
ourselves!"
This made Bob a bit ashamed, and he began to climb down again from the
rigging, looking gingerly the while over the side, as if expecting every
minute that the terrible monster of the deep which his imagination had
pictured would spring up and seize him.
"I--I--was afraid," he faltered. "I--I--thought it best to get out of
the way."
"So it seems," said the old sailor grimly. "It's lucky, though, that
every one was not of the same mind; or where would we all be! Dick,
where's that hatchet I gave you this morning to put into the boat?"
"It's in the after locker, sir."
"Look smart, then," cried the Captain excitedly. "Bear a hand and get
it at once."
At this order, Dick, who, like Bob, had thought "discretion the better
part of valour," and got behind the windlass, in order to have some
substantial obstacle between himself and the trawl-net which the
Captain, with Mr Dugald Strong's aid, had partly dragged into the well
of the cutter, now crawled out from his retreat; and keeping over well
to leeward on the other side of the boom, proceeded to the locker in the
stern-sheets, from whence he took out a small axe and handed it to
Captain Dresser.
"Ha!" ejaculated the old sailor, as he gripped the weapon tightly and
belaboured with the back of it, using all the vigour of his still
nervous right arm, the bag, or "pocket" of the net, in which the body of
some big fish was seen to be entangled; although neither its form nor
appearance could be distinctly distinguished, the folds and meshes being
so tightly wrapped round it. "I'll soon settle him!"
"Hold hard!" shouted out Bob's father, at about the second blow with the
head of the axe over the gunwale. "You very nearly cut my arm off then!
Lucky for me you were not using the edge of your hatchet."
"Beg your pardon, I'm sure," apologised the Captain. "But these brutes
are uncommonly tough."
"More than my arm is," said Mr Strong ruefully, rubbing this member
tenderly. "What sort of beast is it--not a real shark, surely? I
always imagined those beggars to be very much bigger."
"No," replied the other, satisfied from the net being now still that he
had "settled" his victim. "It is what is called a `fox-shark,' or dog-
fish."
"Ah," exclaimed Bob, climbing down from the rigging now that he saw all
danger was over, "I thought I heard it bark just like a dog when you and
dad hauled up the trawl."
"So did I," chimed in Nellie, likewise coming to the stern again from
her place of refuge. "It sounded just like Rover's bark when he's
sometimes shut up for being naughty."
"You are both right," said the Captain, who, with the assistance of
their father, had now lifted the beam and net over the side into the
well of the boat and was busy unfolding the meshes of the net. "The
brute not only barks, but bites, too, if he gets a chance."
"Oh!" cried Bob and Nell together; and they, with Dick, waited anxiously
to see the monster disclosed--a deep-drawn "O-o-oh!"
"There!" ejaculated the Captain a moment after, when he had extracted
the dead body of the dog-fish, nearly five feet long, from the net and
turned it over with his foot so that they should see its wide shark-
mouth and rows of little teeth set on edge, looking like so many small-
tooth combs arranged parallel to each other. "What do you say to that
for a nibble, eh?"
"Is it any good?" asked the barrister, thinking that the dog-fish had a
sort of resemblance to a good-sized pike, with the exception of course
of its head, which, however, the old sailor had so battered about with
his hatchet that the animal would not have been recognised by its
nearest relative. "Not up to much, I should think!"
"Well, I have heard of sailors eating shark on a pinch, but I've got no
stomach for it myself; and all it's fit for is to be chucked overboard,"
replied the Captain, carrying out his suggestion without further delay,
grumbling as he added-- "The brute has spoilt our haul, too, confound
it, and damaged our net!"
It was as the Captain said, there being nothing found in the pocket of
the trawl, beyond the carcase he had just consigned to its native
element, save some mud and a few oyster-shells.
Fortunately, though, the dog-fish had not done quite so much harm as he
might; and, after mending a few rents by tying them together with pieces
of sennet, which the old sailor had taken the precaution of having ready
for such purpose beforehand, the trawl-net was as good as ever, allowing
them to "shoot" it again for another dredge.
This time it remained down till the tide turned, a good three hours at
least; and the hopes of all were high in expectation when they commenced
hauling it in.
"What do you think we'll catch now?" asked Nell. "Eh, Captain?"
"Well, not a whale, missy," said the Captain, with his customary
chuckle, which to him formed almost a part of his speech. "Still, I
fancy we ought to pick up something this time better than a dog-fish."
These doubts were solved anon; for after a terrible long interval of
heaving round the windlass, at which Mr Strong groaned greatly,
declaring that his back felt broken from having to stoop nearly double
so as to keep out of the way of the swinging boom of the cutter, which
swayed to and fro as she rolled about in the tideway, the end of the
trawl-beam once more hove in sight alongside, bobbing up endwise out of
the water.
"Belay!" sang out the Captain on seeing it, taking a turn with a coil of
the rope round the windlass-head to secure it, lest it might whirl round
and let the trawl go to the bottom again before they could hoist it
inboard. "That will do now, Strong; if you'll bear a hand we'll get our
spoil in."
Thereupon he and the barrister leant over the side of the boat as
before; and, catching hold of either end of the trawl-beam, they lifted
it over the gunwale.
The Captain then swished the folds of the net vigorously, so as to shake
what fish might have become entangled in the meshes into the pocket at
the end, Bob and Nellie, and likewise Dick, watching the operations with
the keenest interest. "Now," cried the sailor, "we shall see what we
shall see!" So saying, he and Mr Strong raised up the net pocket,
which was a goodish big bundle and seemed, from its heavy weight, to
contain a large number of fish, for it throbbed and pulsated with their
struggles; when, cutting with his clasp-knife the stout piece of cord
with which the small end of the pocket was tied, the Captain shook out
its living contents on the bottom boards in the well--Nell giving a
shriek and springing up on one of the thwarts as a slimy sole floundered
across her foot, thinking perhaps it was a fellow sole!
She was not frightened, however, only alarmed; and, the next moment, she
was inspecting with as much curiosity as the others the motley
collection that had been brought up from the sea.
"Not a bad lot, eh?" observed the Captain critically, poking the fish
about with the end of his stick, which he took off the seat for the
purpose. "I see we've got some good soles, besides that little chap
that took a fancy to you, missy."
"I didn't mind it," said Miss Nell courageously, now that she knew that
there was nothing much to be frightened of. "It was cold and wet, poor
thing; but I knew it would not hurt me."
"Ah, but you screamed though!" retorted the sailor waggishly, as he
turned to her father. "Say, Strong, do you know what to do with a sole,
eh?"
"Why, eat it, I suppose," replied the other laughing. "I don't think
you can better that, eh?"
"Yes, that's all right, no doubt," said the Captain, a little bit grumpy
at being caught up in that way. "I mean how to cook it properly?"
"Boil it," suggested the barrister, at a loss how to answer the question
satisfactorily. "I should think that the simplest plan."
"Boil it?" repeated the Captain in a voice of horror; "boil your
grandmother!"
"Well, you must really excuse me," said the barrister, as well as he
could speak from laughing; while Bob and Nell went into fits at the idea
of their poor old "Gran" being cooked in so summary a fashion. "I'm
good at a knife and fork, but really I don't know anything of cooking."
"I see you don't," replied the old sailor triumphantly, his good-humour
restored at being able to put the other "up to a wrinkle," as he said;
"but I'll tell you. The best way, Strong, to do a sole is to grill him
as quickly as you can over a clear fire. About five minutes is enough
for the transaction; and then, with a squeeze of lemon and a dash of
cayenne, you've got a dish fit for a king! No bread-crumbs or butter or
any of that French fiddlery, mind, or you'll spoil him!"
"I'll remember your recipe should I ever chance to turn cook," said Mr
Strong. "I should think it ought to taste uncommonly good."
"By Jove, you shall try it, this very afternoon!" cried the old sailor
energetically. "Dick, see that the gridiron is clean, for we'll want it
by and by. Hullo, though, I'm forgetting about the rest of our catch.
Let us see what we've got."
While the Captain had been talking to their father, Bob and Nellie had
been rummaging in the bottom of the boat, trying to make out the
different fish; but, from the fact of all being coated with mud, of
which the trawl's pocket was pretty well filled, in addition to its live
occupants, these latter seemed all so similar at first glance as to
resemble those two negro gentlemen, Pompey and Caesar, described by a
sable brother as being "berry much alike, 'specially Pompey!"
However, the old sailor soon sorted them out.
"Half-a-dozen pair of good soles, eh? That will be a treat for your
aunt Polly," he said to Miss Nell, pitching the fish as he picked them
out carelessly on one side. "Some odd flounders, too, I see. They're
nearly as good as our soles; and, I see also a lot of plaice and dabs,
which are not bad, fried, when you can't get anything better in the same
line, and--hullo, by jingo, don't touch that!"
"Why, Captain?" inquired Bob, who had just taken up in his hands a soft,
jelly-like, flabby thing that appeared as if it were a little white owl,
some ten or twelve inches high, without any particular head or wings to
speak of, although it had a short black beak, resembling a parrot's,
projecting from out of its livid-hued fleshy body. "What is it?"
"It's a cuttle-fish," cried the old sailor. "Drop it, my boy, at once!
or--"
He spoke too late; for at the same moment, the cuttle-fish deluged Bob
with the inky fluid which nature has provided it with as a means of
hiding its whereabouts in the water from its enemies, and from which the
Romans obtained their celebrated "Tyrian dye."
Nell, also, came in for a share of this over her dress, which did not by
any means improve its appearance.
"Never mind, though;" said the Captain to them both, by way of
consolation. "What's done can't be helped!"
"Ah!" remarked their father slily, "if you had been looking after the
net, instead of instructing me in cookery, this wouldn't have happened."
"You're quite right, Strong," replied the other, with an air of great
contrition; albeit his eyes twinkled with fun and his manner was not
quite that of a repentant sinner. "I've neglected my duties
shamefully."
With these words he set to work anew, disinterring a large skate
weighing over twelve pounds from amidst the mud and refuse brought up by
the trawl.
The gills of this fish, in the centre of its globular body, had the most
extraordinary likeness to a human face; and as the queer-looking
creature puffed out these gills, it appeared, as Mr Strong pointed out,
just like a fat old gentleman taking a glass of some rare and highly-
recommended wine and "washing his mouth out" so as to taste it properly.
"Oh, papa, how funny!" exclaimed Nell. "It is just like that, too! But
look, Captain, there's a `soldier crab,' isn't it?"
"Yes, my dear, and we'll keep him for your aquarium; as well as some new
sea-anemones and another zoophyte I see here, too. This chap is
christened the `alcyonium' by learned naturalists, but is called `dead
man's fingers' by the fisher-folk along shore."
"What a horrid name!" interposed Nellie, shuddering--"a horrid name!"
"It is so named," continued the Captain, "because the creature has the
advantage of having several bodies instead of one, all radiating from a
single stem, like fingers or toes. But now, I think, there's nothing
much of any good left of our shoot, save a few oysters. Those will come
in handy presently, eh, Strong?"
"Yes, I shan't mind," replied the barrister. "I'm beginning to have an
appetite, I think."
"We'll have luncheon at once then," said the old sailor with alacrity,
as if this would be a labour of love. "I'm not beginning to have an
appetite, because I've got one already, and a precious good one, too!
Do you think you can pick a bit if you try, eh, young people?"
"Yes, please," replied Nell. Master Bob's response was a shout of
"Rather," fully indicative of his feelings; while Dick grinned so much
that his face was a study as he said "Y-es, sir, sure-ly!"
Taking all these evidences as proof of the unanimity of the company on
the subject, the Captain, all helping, at once set about the
preparations for the coming feast. He first, however, tied up the
pocket of the trawl again, preparatory to heaving it overboard; so that
they could "kill two birds with one stone," as he said, and be fishing
and eating at the same time.
Each had something to do after this important operation.
Dick began by scraping some soles which the Captain selected from the
number he had put aside for Mrs Gilmour. Next, Master Bob washed these
in a bucket of water he had procured from over the side of the cutter in
sailor fashion; and then handing them to the Captain, who officiated as
"master of the kitchen," over the gridiron in the "fo'c's'le,"--the old
sailor cooked away quite cheerfully, in spite of having to bend himself
almost in two in the little cabin in order to attend to his task
properly, his zeal preventing him for the moment from feeling any
inconvenience from stooping so much.
Nell, who had been debarred from any share in preparing the fish or
looking after its grilling, which, certainly, she would infinitely have
preferred, contented herself with arranging the four small plates which
were all that the cutter's locker contained in the way of crockery-ware,
besides a similar number of cups of various hues and shapes.
All of these articles the young lady set out systematically on a board
which the Captain fixed across the thwarts to serve as a table; while,
as for Mr Strong, all he did in the way of assistance was to set
himself down on the most comfortable seat he could find in the stern-
sheets, where, lighting his pipe, he beguiled the weary moments until
lunch should be ready as best he could, smoking and thinking!
He had not to wait long; for presently, with much dignity the Captain
served up his first instalment of soles, which were declared by the
barrister to be so good that another cooking was necessary; aye, and
another too after that, until there was not a single sole left.
"Poor aunt Polly!" exclaimed Nellie, laughing merrily when they were all
consumed, and the bones of the fish chucked overboard to feed their
brethren below. "All her soles are gone! What shall we tell her?"
"Why, that we ate them," said the Captain, starting the laugh, and all
joining in.
Dick, who was at the moment devouring the last crust of bread left,
after finishing his portion of the fish, nearly choked himself by
bursting into a guffaw while in the act of swallowing; so, this
necessitated the Captain's administering to him a cup of sea-water
wherewith to wash down the morsel sticking in his throat, which did not
taste nice after grilled sole, though the Captain said it was "as good
as grog."
They did not have much sport after luncheon, the next cast of the net
bringing up nothing but boulders and mud, besides an old bottle that
must have been dropped into the sea years before and, mayhap, went down
with Kempenfeldt in the _Royal George_; for it was encrusted with
seaweed and barnacles of almost a century's growth.
After a bit, seeing that nothing further was to be gained by stopping
out at sea, drifting with the tide alternately between the Nab and
Warner light-ships, like Mahomet's coffin between heaven and earth, the
Captain hauled up the trawl and bore away back homeward as well as he
could with a foul wind, having to make several tacks before fetching the
cutter's moorings off the coastguard-station.
In spite of this, however, they reached "the Moorings" in time for
dinner; when, notwithstanding their hearty luncheon, no deficiency of
appetite could be observed in any of the party.
Bob and Nellie were, of course, delighted with their experiences of the
day; for, in addition to the joys of trawling and festive picnic on the
water, which they thought even better than their previous one on land,
they brought home a splendid "soldier crab," who caused much subsequent
amusement when admitted to the aquarium, two new specimens of sea-
anemones, and the "dead man's fingers," whose name made their aunt Polly
shiver, the good lady declaring it "quite uncanny, sure."
Their mother, however, was not quite so well-pleased with the result of
the expedition.
"There, I told you so!" she exclaimed, on catching sight of them, with
the stains of the cuttle-fish plainly visible on their clothes. "You
will never wish to wear this suit again, Bob; and, dear, dear, look at
your dress, Nellie!"
"It's not so bad, mamma," pleaded she. "I only got a little of it."
"A little of what?"
"The Tyrian dye, Captain Dresser called it, from the cuttle-fish,"
explained Bob, who seemed to treat the matter more lightly than the
spoiling of his shirt-front and jacket deserved in Mrs Strong's
opinion. "It's quite classical, mother--so the Captain said when I got
squelched with it."
"Really, I wish Captain Dresser would not make experiments with his dyes
when you two are near him," said she, very plaintively. "He hasn't to
look after your clothes, as I have."
Nell smiled at her mother's mistake, while Master Bob fairly screeched
with laughter.
"Why, it wasn't the Captain who did it," he shouted out gleefully. "It
was the cuttle-fish that squirted over us."
Then, on the whole story being told her, Mrs Strong exonerated the
Captain.
But not so Mrs Gilmour, when she learnt the history of the soles, which
had been specially set aside for her and afterwards eaten.
"Oh, you cormorants!" she cried, pretending to be in a great rage.
"Fancy eating my soles! Did you ever hear of such a thing? Captain
Dresser, I'll never forgive you!"
"Don't be so hard-hearted," said he imploringly. "If you only knew how
hungry we were, I'm sure you would forgive us with your usual good-
nature."
"I'm not so certain of that," replied she. "'Deed, and I won't."
"Besides, we enjoyed them so, do you know," continued the old sailor,
chuckling away at a fine rate. "Sure they were mighty fine, ma'am. The
best soles I ivver ate, sure."
"That makes the matter worse, you robber!" she retorted, smiling good-
naturedly at his broad mimicry of her Irish pronunciation. "Why, ye're
adding insult now to injury, sure."
"Never mind, Polly," interposed her brother, acting as peacemaker
between the two. "The Captain will show you how to cook soles properly
the next time he catches any."
"Yes," said Mrs Gilmour drily, "if he doesn't ate them first."
"By Jove, I promise not to do that, ma'am, for I don't like 'em raw,"
replied the offender, keeping up the fun, and not one whit abashed by
these comments on his behaviour. "Really, though, ma'am, I think you
ought to forgive me now, and banish your hard feelings, as you've given
me a wigging. Besides, if we did eat all the soles, I've brought you
home a fine big skate, and lots of plaice, instead."
"Sure, I'll consider about it," said his hostess, showing signs of
relenting. "But don't you think, now, skates are rather out of place in
this warm weather, eh, Captain?"