By this time Fred had got his line overboard, and soon added another to those already caught. For hours nothing was heard but the whizzing of lines and the flapping of fish, as they were drawn from the water. Fred, who had not been so much accustomed to fishing as the others, could not help stopping often to admire the great pile of rock cod.
They are indeed a beautiful fish when first caught, before the red hue they obtain from the kelp, among which they feed, has faded.
In addition to their clams, the boys had an abundance of lobsters and wrinkles; they had also brought some of the smelts caught in the mouth of the brook the day before. They pounded these up, and threw them into the water, which, as they sunk down and drifted astern, drew the fish from all quarters.
“I wonder what I’ve got,” cried Fred, who was tugging at his line, and making awful faces, it hurt his fingers so.
“Perhaps it’s a shark,” said John.
“O, I hope it is! I’ll take out his backbone and make a cane of it.”
“It may be a halibut,” said Charlie, taking hold of the line to help him. But John, looking over the side, burst into laughter, as he exclaimed, “You’ve got the anchor!”
“I’ve got something; it ain’t an anchor, neither,” said Charlie, and pulled up an enormous lobster.
“How much bigger they grow off here in the deep water, than they do round the shores! I mean to eat him.”
It was now near noon, and about low tide; the sun shone bright, the water was glassy, and they could plainly see the bottom, which was a reef of rocks covered with long kelps; the largest of which now came to the top of the water, spreading their great red leaves over its surface.