The eel-nets were like huge bags, large at one end, and narrowing rapidly. The mesh at the large end was about two inches in diameter, but it quickly lessened until it was so small that a minnow could not have got through it. The mouth of the net was made sufficiently wide to stretch across the river, and, in order to keep the body of it distended, wooden hoops were placed at intervals down it. To each hoop inside the net was attached an inner circle of net, which narrowed to a small opening, like the principle on which some mouse-traps are constructed, so that the eels having passed through the narrow inlet could not find the way back again. The end portion of the net, comprising the last four hoops, is made in a separate piece or pocket, and is only fastened to the net when it is fishing. The juncture is marked with a rope and buoy.

The men now fastened a heavy chain along one half of the lower side of the mouth of the net. This was the side which was to lie along the bottom of the river, and the chain was to keep it down. The net was now taken on board the boat, and the men rowed a little way down the river, followed by the crew of the Swan. The net was put out so that the base rested on the bottom. Heavy weights were fixed at the two bottom corners of the net, and the two top corners were tied to posts fixed by the side of the river. The men now sounded with a pole, to see that the chain lay across along the bottom. While they did so the boat heeled over so much that Dick said,—

"Another inch and the stream would be over the gunwale, and those fellows would be pitched into the net and drowned."

The net was now pulled out far down the river, and the pocket tied on, and then it was left to itself.

"Don't the wherries ever do any damage to the nets?" asked Jimmy.

"Sometimes, sir; but they know where they are set, and they takes care where they put their quants if they be quanting; and if they be sailing they pass over the nets without doing them any harm."

After this they set another net lower down, and then they returned to the hut, and, sitting by the peat fire, they had some hot tea, and waited for an hour, knowing that the eels were rushing down stream, and into the nets.

The wind howled dismally over the marshes, and the rain hissed on the water.

"It's lonesome work, sir," said one of the men to Frank, who had drawn nearer the fire with a shudder.

"Yes; does it pay?"