"Got one?" we all demanded.
"Got something; heavy too."
"Haul him up!" cried the skipper.
Kit hauled. It made the block creak and the out-rigger bend. Yard after yard of the wet line was pulled in; and by and by the head of a tremendous fellow parted the water, and came up, one, two, three feet, writhing and bobbing about.
"Twenty pounds, if an ounce!" shouted young Donovan.
"Heave away!" cried the captain. "Now swing him over the rail!"
They were swinging him in, had almost got their hands on him, when the big fish gave a sudden squirm. The hook, which was but slightly caught in the side of its mouth, tore out. Down he went,—chud!
Such a yell of despair as arose! such mutual abuse as broke out all round! till, just at that moment, Wade cried, "I have one!" when all attention was turned to him. Slowly he draws it up. We were all watching. But 'twas a smaller one.
"About a seven-pounder," pronounces the captain, safely landing him on deck, where he was unhooked, and left to wriggle and jump out his agonies.
A minute later, Raed had out a "ten-pounder;" and, having once begun to bite, they kept at it, until the deck grew lively with their frantic leaping.