Bob Strong's Holidays - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"Ha!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed 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 a.s.sistance 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 d.i.c.k, waited anxiously to see the monster disclosed--a deep-drawn "O-o-oh!"
"There!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed 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-sh.e.l.ls.
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 windla.s.s, 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 windla.s.s-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 d.i.c.k, 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 fas.h.i.+on. "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 b.u.t.ter 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. "d.i.c.k, 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 gla.s.s of some rare and highly- recommended wine and "was.h.i.+ng 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 sh.o.r.e."
"What a horrid name!" interposed Nellie, shuddering--"a horrid name!"