Menhardoc Part 17

"Oh, you are lucky to live down here!" cried d.i.c.k, who was in ecstasies with the beauty of the scene. "I say, though, I wish we'd brought poor old Taff!"

"We'll bring him another time," said Will smiling.

"Will you?" cried d.i.c.k joyfully. "Oh, then, I don't mind."

"I thought London was a very beautiful place!" said Will as he tugged at his oar.

"Beautiful!" cried d.i.c.k; "why, it's horrid. You can't play a game of cricket without going out by rail; and as for seeing a bird, why, there isn't anything but the old chiswicks--the sparrows, you know. Why, this is worth a hundred Londons. I say, what a big buoy!"

"Yes; that's a dangerous rock there."

"Can you see?"

"Oh, yes!" said Josh; "she's only about five foot under water now," and, giving an extra tug at his oar, he turned the boat's head to a huge tub that was anch.o.r.ed close by the rock, and which looked like the cork-float likely to be used by the giant who bobbed for whales.

"Give's your oar, Will, lad, and I'll take her over the rock while you get ready a whiffing-line."

He rowed close up to the great buoy, and then bade the visitor look down through the clear water.

"See her?" he said.

"Yes, quite plain," cried d.i.c.k; "why, it's all covered with long waving sea-weed, and--oh! quick! give me a fis.h.i.+ng-line! I can see lots of fis.h.!.+"

"Oh, they're only wraaghs," said Josh contemptuously. "Here, you wait till he's got the whiff ready, and you shall ketch something better than that."

"Shall I?" said d.i.c.k, and he turned to Will, who was unwinding a stout cord from a square wood frame. "Why, you're not going to fish with that piece of rope, are you?" he added, laughing.

"Yes; but I shall put on a fine snood. We're obliged to have strong tackle out here."

"Why, we fish with fine silk lines, and hooks tied on single horse-hairs in the Thames."

"Do you?" said Will quietly.

"Yes, and little tiny hooks. Why, you'll never catch anything with that great coa.r.s.e thing; it would be too big for a jack."

"We do catch fish with them, though, sometimes," said Will coolly, as he deftly tied the hook on to a fine piece of cord by making a couple of peculiar hitches round the shank, the end of which was flattened out.

This thinner cord, or snooding, he tied to the stout line, and on this latter he fastened a good-sized piece of lead formed like a sugar-loaf cut down the middle so as to leave one half.

"Why, you'll frighten all the fish away with that!" cried d.i.c.k. "See how clear the water is!"

"Wait a bit," said Will good-humouredly. "This is salt-water fis.h.i.+ng, not fresh. We don't fish like the gentlemen who go up on the moor for trout. But you'll see."

"Well, but," cried d.i.c.k, in tones of remonstrance, "if you're going to use that great hook you must hide it in the bait. Don't put your bait on like that."

"I showed him how, and that's the right way," said Josh with authority; and then to himself, speaking right into his blue jersey as he bent his head, "Mussy me, how gashly ignorant the boy be!"

"Yes, this is the best way to fish out here," said Will. "We try all sorts of ways, and this is one of the best, only I'm obliged to use this bait till I get a better. It's the end of a squid's arm, and the fish will take it for a worm."

"But do bury the hook in it!" said d.i.c.k earnestly.

"No; let's try my way first," said Will, "but let's see yours."

He handed the hook and piece of grey gristly squid to d.i.c.k, who, after a fas.h.i.+on, buried the hook in it right over the shank, making a clumsy k.n.o.b, which he held up with a triumphant--"There!"

"Won't do," said Will smiling, as he let it fall over into the water.

"That don't look like anything that lives in the water, does it?"

"I d'know," said d.i.c.k, who was disappointed.

"I do!" growled Josh to himself.

"Look here, sir," said Will, tearing the hook out of the piece of squid and throwing it away before picking a similar piece about five inches long from his basket. "I shall just hook it through like that on the end. Now, look here! watch it as we go through the water."

He threw a yard or two of line in the water, the bait going in with a little splash; and as it was drawn along close to the surface by the progress of the boat it had a curious wavy motion, while, when Will s.n.a.t.c.hed the line a little now and then, the bait seemed to be making darts.

"Why, it looks like a little eel!" cried d.i.c.k.

"Yes, like a sand-eel! See that!"

"Oh!" said d.i.c.k excitedly, as there was a splash astern, and something flashed like silver through the water.

"Little tiny mackerel," said Will calmly. "There you are. Let it go; pitch the lead over, and that will keep the bait down, and you can let out twenty or thirty yards of line, and then hold on."

"But won't that lead sink it to the bottom?" said d.i.c.k, as he obeyed his companion.

"It would if we kept still; but rowing like this, it will only keep it down a few feet. If you had no weight, you'd only have the long noses after it, for the bait would be skipping along the top of the water."

"Long noses!" cried d.i.c.k eagerly; "what are they?"

"A-mussy me!" sighed Josh to himself, as he looked pityingly at the young visitor.

"We call the gar-fish long noses," said Will. "They are long silvery fish with bodies like eels."

"I've seen them at the fishmongers'," cried d.i.c.k. "They've regular beaks something like a bird's."

"But full of sharp teeth," said Will. "Those are the fellows, and they're very hard to catch."

"Why?"

"Because there is so little for the hook to hold on by."

"Oh! I say! look here!"

During the above conversation the line had been allowed to run out forty or fifty yards, the lad holding it in his left hand, with his arm hanging over the stern. Then all at once there was a sharp s.n.a.t.c.h, and d.i.c.k turned over on to his knees, holding the line with both hands.

"I've got him!" he cried. "Such a big one! Oh, don't he pull!"

"Well, why don't you pull?" cried Will laughing at his new friend's excitement.