“Oh!”
There was a shout and a splash and we two roared with laughter, for Bigley had just then made a jump to gain a stone standing clear of the falling water, when, not allowing for the slippery sea-weed that grew upon it in a patch, his feet glided over the smooth stone and he came down in a sitting position in the water, which flew out in spray on all sides.
“Here! Hi! Net!—net!” shouted Bob. “Come on, Sep, here’s such a big one—a Bigley big one. It’s a shark, I know it is. Look at his teeth!”
“It’s all very well to laugh,” said Bigley, getting up and standing knee-deep in the water to squeeze the moisture out of the upper part of his clothes, “but how would you like it?”
“Ever so,” cried Bob; “I’m as hot as hot. Mind how you go near him, Sep, he’ll bite. Oh, don’t I wish I had a boat-hook, I’d fetch him out.”
“I don’t care. It’s only sea-water. I don’t mind,” grumbled Bigley wading about in the pool. “I say, boys, here’s a salmon and a whole lot of mullet.”
“Where, where?” cried Bob, and, without a moment’s hesitation he jumped in and waded towards Bigley.
“There! Can’t you see ’em? There they go!” cried Bigley pointing.
“No.”
“Why, out yonder! They’re lying there quiet now amongst the stones.”