“No,” he added, after a little more consideration; “they may say what they like. I’ll hold to my determination. Coward or no, I’m not going to prove my courage for the sake of gratifying busy tattling people. Better remain a coward all my— Ah, that’s one!”
A sharp snatch at his line, followed by a long peculiar drag, told him what was at his bait; and after a little giving and taking, he drew a heavy twining conger eel over the boat’s edge, having no little difficulty in preventing it from tangling his line, for it was quite a yard in length, and proportionately thick.
His captive was, however, soon safe in the large basket, and he had hardly closed the lid and placed a boulder used as ballast upon it before a tug at his other line made the thole-pin rattle, and after a little hauling he dragged in a gloriously-coloured gurnard, whose outspread fins looked like the wings of some lovely butterfly. Then he drew in, one after the other, a couple of wrasse, all grey and green and gold, with their protuberant mouths and curious teeth, after which there was a pause, and, drawing up one of his lines, Harry placed thereon a much larger hook, bound with wire right up the cord that held it. Upon this he placed quite half a mackerel, secured it well to the hook with a piece of string, and then, throwing it over the side, he waited, after feeling the lead touch the rock below, and wondered whether he should capture what he believed to be lurking amongst the ledges of the piece of rock.
“I may either get a conger or a good hake,” he thought to himself. “There’s always someone glad of a good hake.”
He waited with all a fisherman’s patience, and, used as he was to such scenes, he could not help feeling gladdened at the glorious sight that met his gaze, for, one by one, the stars had paled, till only that named after the morning shone out resplendent in the now grey west; while to eastward all was blushing with bright red and gold and purple and orange, tints so wondrously beautiful and rich that Nature had enough to spare for sea as well as sky. While the latter was growing moment by moment more refulgent, the former caught the wondrous dyes, till the water seemed everywhere like molten gold with ruddy and empurpled reflections where the sea gave a gentle heave. Even the gulls and shags that floated on the tide seemed to be glorified by the wondrous colour, till Harry, as he sat there with the stout cord of his fishing-line twisted round his hand, felt how majestic and awe-inspiring was the coming of the new-born day, and involuntarily exclaimed:
“Who would stay in bed if they knew what the dawn is like on such a morn as this!”
So rapt was he in the grandeur of the scene that he had forgotten all about the object of his journey, but he was brought back to the matter-of-fact present by a tremendous snatch which jerked his arm hanging over the side, and made the cord cut so violently into his hand that he was glad to give the line a twist and set it free to run for some distance before he began to check it a little.
“It’s a monster,” he said, as he felt the struggles of the fish, which dragged so heavily that, to save his line from breaking, as it was, in spite of giving and taking, nearly run out, he cast the boat loose and let it drift as the fish tugged.
It was not big enough to drag it along, but it had some influence on the boat, moving it slowly, and this eased the line, which Harry had hauled upon, so that he kept getting in fathom after fathom ready for the captive’s next run.
This was not long in coming, for after keeping up a steady strain for about a minute, and drawing the fish, whatever it might be, nearer and nearer to the surface, there was a sudden snatch, and away it went again straight for the bottom like an arrow, and then right away.