"It will not sink six feet," I said, "because we shall drag it along so
fast. If we were going faster I should require a heavier lead."
"Ah, well, I suppose you know best," he said, smiling. "Go on."
He gave an uneasy glance back along the deck to see if any one else were
near but the man at the wheel, who had his back to us, and I let about
fifty yards of the stout line run out before I checked it and placed it
in Mr Denning's hands as he stood leaning against the bulwarks.
"Shall I give a twist round one of the belaying-pins?" I said.
"What for?" he cried sharply. "Do you think I am too weak to hold it?"
"Oh no," I said quickly, "but we may hook a big fish, and the line would
cut your hand."
He smiled as if he doubted me, and to guard against his letting go, I
unwound the whole of the remaining line and laid it out in rings before
fastening the winder tightly beneath the bulwark, so that even if the
line were all run out the fish would be checked and caught.
Just then Walters came sauntering up, and I could not help thinking that
from his size and our uniform being the same, how easily we might be
taken one for the other in the gloom of the forecastle.
Mr Denning turned and looked at him for a moment, and then back to
watch his line without a word, while Miss Denning bowed slightly.
"They don't like Walters," I said to myself.
"Had any bites?" he said with a sniggering laugh.
"No," replied Mr Denning, coldly; "I have only just begun."
There was silence for a few minutes, Walters' coming having seemed to
damp our proceedings.
"Here, I know what's the matter," he said suddenly, taking a couple of
steps close up to Mr Denning. "Your bait isn't right."
"Mind!" I cried. "You're treading on the line."
"Well, it won't hurt it," said Walters, roughly, and he kicked some of
the rings up with one of his feet. Then to Mr Denning--"It isn't as if
I'd got on nailed boots. Here, let me pull in your bait and pat a
proper one on. I've caught lots of fish. He doesn't know anything
about it."
"Thank you," said Mr Denning, coldly, "when I require your help, I will
ask for it. Ah!"
He uttered a sharp ejaculation, as there came a sudden fierce tug at the
line which dragged his hands right out to the full length of his arms
and brought his chest heavily against his side.
"Hooray! you've got him," cried Walters, "and a big one too. Hold
fast!"
It was as if Mr Denning was playing at the old forfeit game of the
Rules of Contrary, for he let go. The line rushed out, and the next
moment the rings in which Walters had stepped tightened round his legs
just as he was changing his position, and with so heavy a drag that the
lad lost his balance and came down heavily upon the deck, which his head
struck with a sharp rap.
"That was your doing!" he shouted, as I rushed at him where he was
struggling to free himself, for the line kept on tightening round him
from the furious jerks given by the fish which had seized the bait.
But I was not thinking of freeing him, only of getting hold of the line,
and as he struck at me quickly, I thrust him back so sharply that his
head struck the deck again.
By that time I had hold of the line, and, thinking no more of Walters, I
tried to hold the prize, but was fain to call excitedly upon Mr Denning
to help me.
He seized the line too, and for the next five minutes the fish was
tearing about here and there in the water far below where we stood, and
jerking our arms and shoulders till they ached. Now it would go off at
right angles, now directly in the opposite direction.
Then slacking the line for a few moments it shot right away aft, jerking
the line so heavily that it was dragged through our hands. The next
moment we saw what looked like a huge bar of blue and silver shoot right
out of the water and come down with a heavy splash.
"Gone!" I said with a groan, for there were no more fierce tugs, and as
I hauled, the line came in yard by yard for me to cast down on the deck.
"The line's broken," said Mr Denning in a husky voice, as he drew out
his handkerchief to wipe his face.
"Yes; it was a monster," I said dolefully. "Oh, what a pity!"
"Missed one?" said the captain.
"Yes, sir; a great fellow, five feet long at least."
"One of the big albicores, I dare say," he said. "They are very strong
in the water. But he has not broken your line, has he?"
"I'm afraid so," I replied, as I hauled away till the lead rattled
against the ship's side. Then another haul or two brought the hook over
the rail, for the line was not broken, but the stout wire hook had
straightened with the weight of the fish, and had been drawn back out of
the creature's jaws.
By this time Walters had pretty well cleared himself from the line
tangled about his leg, and he stood looking on and scowling at me in
turn as I removed the straightened hook, and put on another from the
spare ones with which Jarette had furnished me. This I baited as before
and threw over, the line running out rapidly till about the same length
was out; and Mr Denning took hold again, the red spots in his cheeks
showing how thoroughly he was interested in the sport.
"Better luck to you this time," said the captain, and he nodded and
walked away; but Walters stayed, saying nothing, but leaning against the
rail, and looking on in a sulky, ill-used way at me and my every action
as I attended on Mr Denning.
"We shall never get to be friends," I thought. "He always looks as if
he was so jealous that he would like to throw me overboard."
"Shall I fasten the line this time, sir?"
"No, no; not on any account," said Mr Denning. "It would take away
half the excitement, and I get so little in my life. Eh, Lena?"
Miss Denning smiled at him half-pityingly, and his face looked very
gentle now as he smiled back at her. Then all his attention was
directed to the line where it hit the water.
"You will be ready to help if I hook a big one," he said to me; "I'm not
so strong as I used to be."
"I'll catch hold directly you tell me," I replied; "but perhaps it will
be a small one this time."
I turned to arrange the spare line once more so that it would run out
easily, and Miss Denning went closer to her brother, while I became
aware now of the fact that Walters was watching me in a sour, sneering
way.
"What's the matter?" I said.
"Oh, go on," he whispered; "make much of it. You did that on purpose
just now."
"What, when you went down?" I said eagerly. "I didn't, really."
"All right; I'm not blind, and I'm not a fool. Of course we're the
favourite, and everything is to give way to us; but never mind, my lad,
every dog has his day."
I looked at him with a feeling of wonder that any one could be so
thoroughly disagreeable, so determined to look at everything from a
wrong point of view, and then I laughed, for it seemed to be utterly
absurd that he should misconstrue even that look, for he exclaimed
viciously--
"That's right, grin away, my lad; but the day may come when you'll laugh
the wrong side of your mouth."
"Why, what a chap you are, Nic!" I whispered. "I never saw such a
fellow. Come, let's be friends; I'm sure I want to."
"And I don't, with a miserable sneak who is always trying to undermine
me with people."
"Under-grandmother you," I said in a low voice, so that Miss Denning
should not hear. "Don't talk such stuff."
"Go on. Insult me as much as you like," he whispered back: "I shan't
say anything. You're setting everybody against me, so that instead of
being friends, as a young officer should with his equals, I'm obliged to
go and talk to the men."
I could not help laughing again at his mock-tragic and absurd way of
taking things, and as I honestly felt that if matters were unpleasant it
was all his own fault, he leaned toward me now with his eyes half shut
and his teeth pressed together as he whispered close to my ear--
"All right. You'll be sorry for it some day, and then--"
"Here's another, Dale! Quick!" cried Mr Denning.
"Yes, yes, quick, quick," cried his sister, and I offended poor Walters
again quite unintentionally by swinging one arm across his chest in my
hurry and excitement to get to Mr Denning's help; and as I reached over
the rail to get hold of the line, I felt sure that my messmate would
think that I struck him. For the moment I felt vexed and sorry, then I
could not help smiling to think how comic it was that I should keep on
upsetting him. Then I forgot all about it in the excitement of righting
the fish.
"It's a big one, Mr Denning," I said, as we both held on to the line--
holding on now with it across the rail. "Let's give him a chance to
run, and then haul in. Then he can run over again to tire himself."
Mr Denning was too much excited to speak, but he nodded his head, and
we let the line run, after I had placed one foot upon it to hold it down
on the deck and check its race.
Away went the fish, with ring after ring working off beneath my foot
till only about three yards were left.
"Stop it now," cried Mr Denning, and I pressed my foot down hard,
feeling a curious quivering sensation run up my leg before I quite
stopped the running.
And now the fish began to rush in another direction, giving us an
opportunity to haul in some of the line; but we soon had to let it go
again; and every time I glanced at Walters, all hot, excited, and eager
as I was, I could see that he was looking on with a half-mocking scowl.
But the next minute he gave quite a start and seized the line, for the
captain, Mr Brymer, and Mr Frewen had all come up on seeing that a
fish had been hooked, and the former said sharply--
"Come, Walters, don't stand there with your hands in your pockets and
let Dale do all the work."
And again I upset my messmate as if it were a fatality, for I cried
out--
"All right, sir, we can manage. Don't touch the line, Walters."
"No; don't touch the line!" cried Mr Denning, and the lad shrank back
as if the thin hemp were red-hot.
Then amidst plenty of excitement and some of the crew coming aft, I
helped Mr Denning haul and haul till the fish was gradually drawn so
close in that we could see its failing efforts to regain its freedom.
Apparently it was nearly five feet long, and its sides flashed in the
clear water where it was not foaming with the lashing of the captive's
vigorous widely-forked tail.
"Bonito," cried the captain.
"No, no, albicore," said Mr Brymer.
"Suppose we wait till it's fully caught," said Mr Frewen, smiling at
Miss Denning, when I saw her brother give him an angry look.
But the next moment I was thinking only of the fish, which was now so
exhausted that it had ceased struggling, and allowed itself to be
dragged along in the wake of the ship, merely giving a flap with its
tail from time to time which turned it from side to side.
"Now," said Mr Denning to me, "let us both haul it on board."
But I protested, saying that the weight of the fish would certainly
break it away, and that we should lose it.
To save us from such a catastrophe, I unfastened the other end of the
line, made a running noose round the tight line beneath Mr Denning's
hands, and let it run down till the noose struck the fish on the nose,
and made it give a furious plunge to escape.
But the hook held firm in spite of my dread, and after a little
twitching and shaking, with the lookers-on making remarks which only
fidgeted me instead of helping, I managed to make the noose glide over
the slippery body.
"Now!" cried Mr Frewen, who was as interested as the rest; but before
the word was well uttered, I had given the line a sharp snatch just as
the running noose was in the narrow part before where the tail fin
curved out above and below like a new moon.
This meant a double hold, for the noose tightened, and now in spite of a
fresh set of furious struggles the fish was steadily hauled out of the
water, and we nearly had it up to the poop-rail, when the hook was torn
out of its holding, and the fish hung down quivering and flapping from
the noose about its tail.
The weight seemed to be tremendous, but I gave two or three sharp tugs,
had the fish over the rail, and over on to the deck, whose planks it
began to belabour heavily, while we gazed excitedly at the beautiful
creature glistening in its splendid coat of many colours, which flashed
gold, silver, orange, scarlet, and metallic blue and green at every
quivering blow.
"What is it?" said Mr Denning eagerly, and I remember thinking how
animated and well he looked that day.
"Well," said the captain, "many years as I've sailed these seas, I
hardly know what to say. It's something like a dolphin, but it's more
like a bonito, and it isn't unlike an albicore. What should you say,
Brymer?"
"Quite fresh to me," said the mate. "Certainly one of the mackerel
family, by its head and the great crescent moon tail."
"Yes, and the short fins on front, top, and bottom. Never mind, it
looks a good one for the table, and I congratulate you, Mr Denning,
upon your luck. Going to try again?"
"No," said the invalid, peevishly, as he glanced quickly from his sister
to the doctor and back. "Thank you for helping me, Alison Dale. Lena,
your arm; I'll go below."
No one spoke till he had disappeared, and then the captain shook his
head.
"Poor chap," he said, with a sigh. "Here, Dale, Walters, carry the fish
to the cook; Hampton--Dumlow, swabs and a bucket."
"Keep tight hold," I cried to my companion, who was holding the head of
the fish by a loop of yarn passed through its gills, while I carried it
by getting a good grip of the thin tail.
"Do you want to carry it yourself?"
"Not at all. Too heavy."
Just then the fish began to quiver as if it were all steel spring, and
waggled its tail so sharply that it flung off my grasp, and once more I
offended Walters, for the fish fell across his feet.
"There!" he cried, "you can't deny that. You did it on purpose. A
filthy, slimy thing!"
As he stood there with both his hands clenched I thought he was going to
strike me; but even if he had it would have made no difference, I should
have been obliged to laugh, and laugh I did, till as I was wiping my
eyes I found that Jarette the French sailor was close up and looking at
me keenly.
"Here, Barney Blane," I said, "take hold."
The man grinned and came and helped me bear it away to the cook, after
which I put away the tackle, hanging it to dry before giving it back to
its owner.