“I say, but this is deuced exciting work,” cried Jim, who had not had a bite the whole morning, a misfortune wherein he was not alone. “Let’s knock off.”
“That’s right, Jim, always fall back on my advice,” said Ethel, who was seated near him, likewise trying to fish. “I suggested that an hour ago.”
“You? I like that. Why, it was you who said we didn’t deserve our dinner unless we caught it.”
“Did I? Well, I very soon recanted,” laughed she, throwing down her rod with a yawn. “We are getting sleepy over this, and that’s the preliminary stage to getting quarrelsome, you know. So let’s go and see what the others are about.”
“W-wait a bit,” stuttered Allen, eagerly. “I’ve got a bite.”
He had. Suddenly, after one or two violent bobs, his float disappeared—down, down—far into the depths.
“Hallo, Allen, you’ve got a whale on there, at least,” cried Jim. “Hold on to him and be ready to cut the line before he lugs you in.”
Allen’s hands trembled with excitement, and he could hardly work his tackle for fear of losing the prize, as he felt the series of jerks and tugs as if something powerful was kicking at the end. At last he succeeded in bringing it to the surface. It was a huge eel.
But the next thing was to land his capture. For Allen, with infinite difficulty, had succeeded in making his way round the rock-bound sides of the pool to a narrow ledge, whereon he now stood. There was just standing-room, but only just, and the eel, as it leaped and squirmed on the narrow ledge, soon made it evident that there was not room for itself and its captor too. Once it fell back into the water and Allen, losing his balance, nearly followed; but the tackle was good and he succeeded in landing it again. Finally he managed to get his heel upon it and end its writhings by a process of semi-decapitation, but, oh, Heavens! His jack-boots on which he had that morning bestowed an extra amount of care and blacking, were profusely defiled by contact with the slimy reptile as it twisted over them in its death-throes, leaving trails and trails of slime upon their polished surface.
“I say, Allen, you’ll be wanting to catch another eel after that, I should think,” cried Jim, while Ethel, whom Allen’s silent expression of hopeless woe had convulsed, was nearly choking in her efforts to stifle her laughter.