Moving very slowly and beating the seaweed as they went, little by little the two drove the hosts of squid back through the kelp to a narrow bay, the water being turned to a muddy brownish-black by the discharge of the ink-bags. The squid were of fair size, ranging from one to four feet in length, of which the body was about one-third. Presently Vincente's hand shot back a little and, with a quick throw, he cast the 'grains,' as the small-barbed harpoon was called, into the midst of them. Colin's eyes were not quick enough to see the squid, but the boatman smiled.
"Got him zat time!" he said. "Pull him in."
Without a moment's hesitation Colin grasped the rope that was attached to the small harpoon.
"Don't jerk," the boatman warned him; "ze flesh isn't very tough an' unless you pull steady ze spear will draw right out."
Suddenly Colin felt the rope tauten.
"What's the matter?" he said. "I can't move it."
"Ze squid has got hold of ze bottom," said the boatman with a laugh. "No, you can't move him. Nozzing move a squid, after he's got hold of somet'ing. He'll hang on to ze bottom till ze end of ze world, an' he'd let himself be cut to pieces before he'd let go his hold. Better jerk ze spear out!"
Colin gave a quick yank and the barbed harpoon came up with the blade as clean as though it had never been plunged into anything.
"Zere!" the boatman cried, as Colin stood holding the 'grains,' "one great big one right under you!"