"And are there any fish in that muddy pond, Monnick?" said Arthur Prayle
that morning after breakfast.
"Oh, sir, yes; you should see them sometimes; great fellows that come up
after the bread you throw in. Are you coming to see it emptied?"
Arthur Prayle looked at his glossy black garments, and then, bowing his
head, gravely said, "Yes, perhaps I shall be there," and he raised his
book and went on down the garden.
His "perhaps" proved a certainty, for when the party started from the
house to go across the fields he walked sedately between Aunt Sophia and
Naomi, talking softly all the time till they reached the place.
It was a large pond. How large? Well, about as big as ponds generally
are; and it was pretty deep. There were mysterious places beneath the
overhanging willows, whose roots hung in the water, where the hooked
fish rushed and entangled the lines. There was that awkward spot where
the old posts, and wood, and willow poles lay with their ends in the
mud, where Sir James caught the great eel that twined himself in and
out, and the stout silkworm gut line parted like tinder. There was a
deep hole, too, by the penstock, and various linking places where, in
the silence of the night, you could hear wallowings and splashings, and
now and then a loud suck or smack of the lips as a fish took something
from the top of the water.
On inspection half-a-dozen brawny brown-armed men were found picking and
throwing out the earth, and graving a trench in a way that would have
made a military engineer long for a few hundred of such fellows to form
his earthworks. Deep down they delved till they had cut and laid bare
certain pipes in a huge dyke, every foot of which was suggestive of the
mysteries of the pond that required so vast a trench to drain off its
waters. There was a good deal of speculation rife about that pond,
inasmuch as one that was drained by Sir James a couple of years before
proved to hold nothing but thousands of great fat newts that swarmed
over the mud like alligators in a Florida lagoon. It was said that
after all perhaps a carp or two and an eel would be all that were found,
but, even as the speculative remarks were made, a shoal of small roach
flecked the surface, and it was certain that the result could not be
_nil_.
It boots not to tell of the way those men worked, as full of interest in
the job as any one else, it is enough to say that the pond head was
reached at last, the new drain ready, and over the pipe a piece of
wire-work placed to stay any fish from passing down; and at last the
water was allowed to flow till the pond was a couple of feet lower, the
roots of the bank vegetation and the willows bare, and dozens of slimy
holes visible, such as would be affected by eels, water-voles, and other
lovers of such snuggeries in the banks. Ragged pieces of wood stood out
at all angles from the mud and water, the penstock rose up like a model
in old oak of Tyburn Tree, kept for the execution of rats; and the great
wooden pump, with its platform in the corner where the water-barrels
were tilled, trailed its leaden pipe down into the depths like a
monstrous antediluvian eel.
Not so much as a splash to tell that there was anything within the
waters rushing away in a flood, down through the alders in an old marl
pit hard by. More hours went on and there were no signs of fish. Mud
and to spare, and the banks looking slimy and strange. Tangles of wood
that had lain at the bottom for years began to show as lower sank the
water, revealing pots, old boots, hurdles, and rusty iron, but still no
fish of size. Then there was a shout of triumph from one of the men at
the sight of a billhook some six feet from the bank, one that had been
dropped in years before, when the overhanging willows were being lopped,
and there was no Mercury at hand to bring it up transformed to silver or
gold. The keen-edged implement was recovered, hardly the worse for its
immersion, and, as far as its owner was concerned, the game of draining
the pond was worth the candle. But still no fish, and, save in the
holes, the water was now only a foot deep. There were indications
though, for the simple running of the water off would not have made the
remainder so thick, and as some bubbles were seen to rise, one man
declared that it was a "girt" eel at work. Another six inches lower,
and here and there a dark line could be seen, cutting the muddy water,
ploughing as it were along, while behind there came a wavy eddy, and it
was evident that these dark lines were the back fins of fish swimming in
the shallow pool.
"They are getting sick," said John Monnick with a grim smile.
Certainly if swimming at the top of the water indicated sickness, a
number of large fish were very sick indeed, while now that the fact was
patent of there being plenty of finny creatures there, the excitement
began to grow. The remaining water grew more thick, and here and there
the surface was dimpled and splashed by little dark spots where shoals
of small fish hurried to and fro. Then as the water grew lower still,
there was a cessation of movement, the fish seemed all to have
disappeared, and they might have passed down the drain for all there was
to see.
"Rather a boyish pursuit," said Prayle, who found himself close by the
doctor.
"Thoroughly," replied Scales; "puts one in mind of old school days.
Never enjoyed myself so much in my life."
Prayle smiled and turned to Naomi.
"That fellow's ancestors must have been eels," growled the doctor to
himself. "Great Darwin! I declare myself converted."
"Interested in it, Mr Prayle?" said Naomi, opening her large soft eyes.
"Oh, yes, I like to see anything that pleases my cousin."
"Ah!" sighed Prayle, "it seems a strange pursuit."
"My cousin is so fond of the water," said Naomi gently.
"He seems fond of the mud," muttered Prayle. "Good heavens! how can a
man be such a boor?"
All this while Lady Scarlett was smiling on everybody, and taking
intense interest in her husband's pursuit, seeing that the men had lunch
and as much beer as they liked--which was a good deal--but they were
working tremendously and as eager as their lord.
And now preparations were made. Half-a-dozen large tubs were filled
with clean water; a strong landing-net was placed at hand, with a couple
of buckets, and two or three of the shallow wooden baskets, known as
"trucks," or so-called "trugs." The next proceeding was for a man to
descend into the slime at the head of the pond, and commence a trench,
throwing out the mud right and left till he had reached the solid
bottom, and thus going on ahead to form, as it were, a ditch through the
centre of the hollow, a process which hastened the flow of water and
soon set the latest doubt at rest. For before long there was a
scuffling and splashing of small fish, roach leaped out, and small bream
kept, displaying their silvery sides. Tiny pools formed all over the
bottom of the pond, each occupied by its scores of fish, while, in the
principal pool, the great carp could be seen sailing slowly and sedately
here and there, all singly, save in one instance, where a monster fellow
swam slowly in and out with one two-thirds his size close to his side--a
regular fishy Darby and Joan. Then lower sank the water, the small fish
all splash and excitement, but the great carp as cool and calm as could
be, retiring with the water to a pool that grew less and less until, in
place of being single and in pairs, they were united into one great
shoal that, if not like dogs, as John Monnick said, were certainly
suggestive of the backs of so many little pigs swimming quietly to and
fro. Lower still the water, and the excitement increasing.
"What a great carp!" cried the doctor. "Look at his back fin."
"No; it is an eel!" cried Sir James; and an eel it was, slowly gliding
along through what was rapidly becoming liquid mud; and in few minutes
another and another, and then once more another could be seen, huge
fellows nearly a yard long, and very thick and fat, going about with
their long back fins above the surface, as they moved in serpentine wavy
progression, seeking for some place of refuge, and then suddenly
disappearing by giving themselves a wriggle and twist, and working
themselves down into the mud.
"There goes Prayle's relation. I wish he'd follow," said the doctor to
himself.
"Well, Jack, what do you think of it all?" cried Sir James, whose old
tweed coat was bespattered with mud.
"That I never saw a fellow less like a baronet and a member of
Parliament in my life," replied Scales.
"Ah! you should have seen me at the Cape, my boy, cooking for our party;
and in the far west making a brush hut. You don't know what a number of
facets a fellow can show. There, pull off your coat and come and help.
Let's be boys while we can."
The doctor pulled off his coat and rolled up his sleeves, and then
bowing apologetically to the ladies--
"For heaven's sake," he said, "if ever you meet any patients of mine,
don't say you saw me bemired like this."
"Humph!" ejaculated Aunt Sophia, whose face was an enigma.
"They would perhaps like you all the better for it, doctor," said Lady
Scarlett smiling, and then turning serious as she noted the grave look
on the face of her husband's friend.
She looked up directly after, and saw that Prayle was watching her, and
he soon took a step forward as if about to come to her side, but she
coloured slightly, and went to speak to the old gardener, whom she sent
to the house upon some errand.
"An excuse," said Prayle to himself: "she invented that on the instant."
By this time the ditch through the middle was extending fast, the water
pouring off, and the landing-net at work stopping fish like shoals of
sprats from going towards the wire-protected drain, and these were
scooped out, placed in buckets, and from thence carried to the tubs.
The men worked furiously, evidently as delighted with the task as so
many schoolboys, though extremely careful about getting in the mud. But
time soon changed all that, for the water was now low enough for the
great carp to be reached, and the smaller fry of roach and bream were
left, for the present, while the men laid down planks upon the mud, and
approached the hole beneath the willows, where it was known that the
carp now lay. "Take care! Don't hurt them!" "Scoop 'em out wi' the
trug." Order after order, as the wooden buckets were handled; one was
plunged in, and shovelled out a great carp with a quarter of a pailful
of liquid mud. No calm sedateness now. The monarchs of the pond had
felt their latent majesty touched, and there was a tremendous splashing
and plunging; the man who had scooped out the great fish was spattered
with mud from head to foot; there was a plunge, and the carp was gone.
The mud was forgotten now in the excitement, as fresh efforts were made,
the carp were scooped out and held down by main force as they gave
displays of their tremendous muscular power, and were passed up the
side--great golden fellows, thick, short, and fat, clothed in a scale
armour that seemed to be composed of well-worn half-sovereigns, and
panting and gaping with surprise as they were safely landed.
Shouts and laughter greeted each capture of the great fellows, only one
of which was as small as two pounds weight, the others running from
three to five, and exhibiting a power that was marvellous in creatures
of their size. Sometimes a great fellow eluded capture again and again,
gliding between the hands, leaping out of the basket, and making furious
efforts to escape, but only to be caught once more, till the last was
secured, and attention turned to the eels.
By this time the doctor had caught the infection from his friend, and he
was as forgetful of the mud and as eager in the chase as Sir James and
his men; and as the big landing-net was brought into use, and the great
eels that glided over the mud like serpents were chased, they showed
that they could travel tail first as fast as head first, and with the
greatest ease. The landing-net was held before them, and efforts made
to drive them in, but generally without result, or if they were driven
in, it was only for them to glide out more quickly. Hands were useless,
shovels impotent, and the chase grew exciting in the extreme, as the men
plunged in their bare arms to the shoulder, and drew them from the mud
again, looking; as if they had gone in, like Mrs Boffin, for fashion,
and were wearing twenty-four button gloves of a gloomy hue. But lithe
and strong as they were, the eels had to succumb, great two and three
pound fellows, and were safely thrown out on the grass; the last of the
small fish were secured, the whole of the water drained off, and nothing
remained but three feet of thick mud. Nothing? Nothing but the eels
that had dived in like worms. These were now attacked. The mud was
stirred with poles or shovels till the lurking place of one was found,
when, after a long tight, he would be secured, twisting, twining, and
fighting for liberty; needing delicate handling too, for these monsters
of the pond bite hard and sharp. Deep down in the mud some forced
themselves, but many were dug out, and thrown or driven into places
where they could be secured, and at last, wet, muddy, and weary, the
owner cried _Quantum suff._, beer for the last time was handed round,
and the empty pond was left in peace.
But there was fish for dinner that night, savoury spitchcocked eels, and
regal carp with wine sauce, the latter being declared by every one
present, from Aunt Sophia to Prayle, to be the poorest, muddiest, most
insipid dish ever placed upon a table.
It was about nine that night that just before Lady Scarlett sent a
message to the study, which was half full of smoke, and while Prayle had
gone for a stroll to watch the stars, as he said, making Scales look a
little glum as he left the room, that Sir James cried suddenly--"Jack,
old man, I'll never brag again."
"Why?"
"I've got the most awful of pains in my back, and it seems to run right
up my spine. What the dickens is it? Have you been giving me a dose?"
"No," said Scales grimly; "that comes of emptying the pond."
"Not going to be anything, is it?"
"Well," said the doctor, "I don't know, but a cold will settle sometimes
upon the nerves."
"Oh! hang it, man, don't talk about one's nerves. Here, come along, I
shall forget it. Let's go and have some tea."
Volume 1, Chapter VIII.