Part 45 (1/2)

This was done, the small boats being rowed out of the circle of corks, and one going to the free end of the net, while the others, with Uncle Abram's and its load, going to the back of the net, about the middle, so that the visitors might have a good view.

All this took time; but at last the net was so managed that the two seine-boats were ash.o.r.e, their stems run right on the sands, and the net between them formed a bow towards the coast, the ends being about eighty or ninety yards apart.

There was no mistake now about there being some large fish inclosed; and the excitement of the boys grew intense when they saw Josh take hold of the hitcher, and hold it, spear-fas.h.i.+on, ready to attack the great fish should he see a chance.

”Don't strike at her, Josh,” shouted Pollard, ”unless she be coming over. I think we can manage her easy enough now.”

He was quite right, for long custom had made these men wonderfully clever in the management of a net, which, fragile in its single threads, becomes, in its combination of thousands of meshes, an engine of tremendous power.

The way the men managed was as follows:--

After getting, as it were, the two ends of the net to the sh.o.r.e, they drew on the lower rope, bringing it in, and in, over the sand, till the bow it made was less bent. Then they served the upper rope the same.

Then they drew both together, with the result that at last the tremendously extensive net was folded longwise right over upon itself, the top-line was drawn right down upon the foot-line, and at last the fish left in the net were completely shut in what seemed like an enormous old-fas.h.i.+oned purse.

This done, the ends were taken by plenty of willing hands right into shallow water, and as the men hauled, the great purse came closer and closer, and every now and then there was a tremendous agitation towards the middle.

”Let's go ash.o.r.e, now,” said Arthur, as Josh urged the boat on, and the water swirled up tremendously not four yards away.

”Is there any danger--any risk?” said Mr Temple quietly to Josh.

”A mussy me! no, sir; not a bit!” said Josh; and then laughing, he added, ”only for shark, sir, of having his liver boiled down for oil.”

”Oh! don't I wish I had a spear, or a harpoon!” cried d.i.c.k excitedly, as once more the water was churned up and the net came to the surface.

”We'll get her without any o' that tackle, Master d.i.c.k, sir,” cried Josh, keeping steadily advancing after the cork-line, but not so quickly as to go over the net.

”Are they going to draw the net right ash.o.r.e, Will?” said d.i.c.k.

”Right ash.o.r.e, Master d.i.c.k, on to the sands, and it won't be long now.”

”Take care, d.i.c.k, or you'll be overboard!” said Mr Temple.

”I should like to be, father; it isn't deep here?”

”Fathom!” said Josh shortly; ”soon be half.”

There was a regular sing-song kept up by the men who were hauling, and the sands presented quite an exciting scene, for some sixty or seventy of the men who had finished their task, with others who were ash.o.r.e and not busy, had collected to see the big fish taken in the seine.

”Why, there must be lots of fish in it yet,” said d.i.c.k.

”Yes; plenty of mackerel left, and a many fish perhaps such as you never saw before.”

”Is she heavy, lads?” shouted the captain of the seine-boat.

”Ay, there be a sag o' fish in her yet aside the great un,” was shouted back.

”Steady, then! steady! and don't break the seine. Take your time!”

”Hadn't we better get ash.o.r.e?” cried d.i.c.k; ”we shall see better.”