I had so many things to take up my attention that I forgot all about
hearing Jarette and Walters talking together. Perhaps it came to mind
once or twice afterwards, but it made no impression then, however much I
may have thought about it afterwards. For then I was trying to learn my
duties, studying up a little navigation, helping Mr Preddle with his
fish that were to stock the New Zealand rivers with trout, and attending
to Mr Denning. I suppose it was attending upon him, but to me it was
all one jolly time of amusement, during which the poor fellow seemed to
forget all about his bad health, and became as interested as a boy with
our various bits of sport.
Now in a fast steamer there is not much done, for I suppose that quick
rush of the vessel, as it ploughs its way through the sea, startles the
fish away to right and left, and then when they might be swimming
quietly after the first rush, the tremendous beating up of the water by
the whirling screw sends them off again, and makes the water so foamy
that they cannot see a bait.
But with a sailing vessel it is different. When there is not much wind,
of course she glides along gently, leaving a wake of foam, but the water
is not so disturbed; and soon after the weather had settled down, and
was day by day growing warmer, so that the awning was rigged up over the
poop, and our fishing began.
"Oh yes," Captain Berriman said, "fish away, sir, and the more fresh
fish you catch for us, the better the passengers and crew will like it."
I was standing by one morning when this was said, and Miss Denning
glanced at me and smiled as if she knew what was coming.
"You will let young Dale help me?" said Mr Denning. "Want him?"
"Oh yes."
"Take him, then. He isn't much use," said the captain, laughingly. "I
often wonder why the owners have boys on board. Better have young
Walters, he's more of a sailor than this fellow."
"Oh no," said Mr Denning, "I should like Dale."
"All right," said the captain. "Don't tumble overboard, Dale."
"I'll try not, sir," I said, "but I can swim."
"So much the better, my lad, but it takes a long time to lower a boat
down, and a man overboard gets left a long way behind when a ship is in
full sail."
He walked away, and looking as eager as I did, Mr Denning began about a
fishing-line, while his sister looked bright and happy to see her
brother so much interested in the plans he had in view.
"I suppose there are plenty of fishing-lines on board," he said. "Let's
get right back beyond the man at the wheel, and fish from there."
"I'll go and see about the lines," I said; and I went forward to where
the boatswain was looking after some men who were bending on a new sail.
"Lines? Fishin'-lines, my lad?--no, I don't know of any."
Directly after I came upon Walters. "I say, do you know anything about
any fishing-lines?" I said.
"Of course I do," he replied in a contemptuous tone; "who doesn't?"
"But where do they keep them--with the stores?"
"Who's going fishing?" said Walters. "Mr Denning."
"Oh! I'll come and help him; I like fishing," he said.
I looked at him curiously, as I thought of what had been said, and then
asked him again.
"I don't know," he cried, "I don't carry fishing-lines in my pockets.
Ask old fat Preddle, he's a regular fisherman. But you won't catch
any."
I did not think Mr Preddle was likely to have lines, so I did not ask
him, but thought I would go and ask every man I met, when I caught sight
of Bob Hampton, and went to him.
"Fishin'-lines, my lad? No, I don't think there's any aboard."
"Yes, there are," growled Barney; "I see Frenchy Jarette rigging some up
t'other day, as if he meant to have a try."
I felt as if I did not like to ask a favour of the Frenchman, for
somehow I did not like him; but feeling that Mr Denning would be
disappointed if none were found, I asked where the man was, and found
that he was down in the forecastle asleep, for he had been in one of the
night watches.
It was so dark there, that for a few moments I could not make out which
of the sleeping men lying there was the one I sought. They were all
breathing heavily, and at first going down out of the bright sunshine
the faces all looked alike; but after getting a little more accustomed
to the gloom, I saw a hand just where the faint rays came down through a
little sky-light, and on one of the fingers there was a silver ring.
Thinking that the wearer might possibly be the Frenchman, I went farther
and looked a little more closely, and saw that I was right, for though I
could not have been sure that the ring on the hand proved this to be the
man I sought, one that I could just make out in the ear satisfied me,
and stooping lower still I laid my hand upon his shoulder.
The touch had no effect, and I took hold and shook him.
"Jarette--Jarette!" I said.
He sprang partly up with a faint cry, and to my horror, gripped me by
the throat.
"Curse you, I'll--Ah, it's you, cher ami," he said, beginning fiercely,
and changing his tone to a whisper. "No, no, not yet," he continued,
"it isn't ripe. Wait, cher ami, wait a little."
"Jarette," I said wonderingly, for the man puzzled me--I had no key to
his meaning then--"wake up. I'm sorry I roused you, but we want a
fishing-line, and Bob Hampton says you have some."
"What--to fish! No, you wish to speak. Hist! I--ah, I see now," he
cried quickly. "It is dark below. I see it is you, Mr Dale.
Fishing-lines? Yes, I get you some."
"Why, you thought I was Mr Walters," I said, laughing.
"I?--my faith, no, sir. I was asleep and dreaming. Yes," he continued,
scrambling out and going to a canvas bag, out of which he drew a large
square wooden winder.
"There; it is a very long line and nearly new. I have not used it once,
sir. Mister the captain objects to the men having these delassements,
these untirings, when you are weary."
"Oh, thank you, Jarette," I cried eagerly.
"And here are these hooks, if the one at the end breaks."
"Yes."
"And the good fortune to you. Good luck you say it."
I went back on deck with my prize, and called at the galley, thinking no
more of the Frenchman's mistake.
There the cook readily furnished me with a sharp knife and some tough
rind pieces of pork and bacon liberally furnished on one side with fat.
"Cut 'em in long baits, sir," he said, "and the fish are sure to come at
them."
"But they will taste too salt," I said.
He laughed.
"How can a fish know whether the bait is salt when it takes it in salt
water?"
I had not thought of that, and I returned aft, passing Mr Frewen and
Mr Preddle, both of whom looked disturbed, and then I reached the spot
where I had left Mr Denning and his sister. He was looking angry, and
Miss Denning had tears in her eyes as she quickly turned away.
"I've got a line and baits," I said, speaking as if I had not noticed
that anything was wrong, though I felt sure that the doctor and Mr
Preddle had been there in my absence.
"You can take them back," said Mr Denning, shortly, "I shall not fish
to-day."
Miss Denning turned round quickly.
"John dear!" she whispered, and she gave him a piteous look.
He frowned and turned to me, when seeing, I suppose, my disappointment,
he smoothed his face and then smiled.
"Oh, very well," he said, "I was going to my cabin, but we will have a
try."
I saw Miss Denning lay her hand upon his arm, but took no notice, for I
knelt down on the deck directly, cut a bait ready--a long strip of the
bacon rind--stuck the point of the large sharp hook through one end as
if I were going to fish for mackerel at home, and then after unwinding
some of the line, to which a heavy leaden sinker was attached, I was
about to throw the bait over the stern.
"But that piece of lead will be too heavy," cried Mr Denning, now full
of interest in the fishing. "It will make the line hang straight down,
and I keep seeing the fish play near the top."