Bob jumped out of the hole like a shot and turned upon Bigley angrily:
“You just see if I’m going to stop down there and be smothered with water. Yah! Get out, you ugly old smuggler.”
As he spoke he flung Bigley’s great shoe with a good aim down by his feet, and splashed him completely all over.
Some lads would have jumped out and pursued Bob in a fury, but Bigley only brushed the water out of his eyes and began to laugh as if he rather enjoyed it.
“Come on, Sep,” he cried to me; “you and I will finish, and if he comes near we’ll give him such a dowsing.”
I went to his help, and we worked so well that no less than six more prawns came down to our pool, and were scooped out; and at last the upper one was completely emptied, but it was nearly an hour’s work.
“Now then, I’ll go in,” said Bob, and he crept in through the rift between the two pools, and under the overhanging rocks.
“Oh!” he cried as soon as he was in, “what a jolly place! And—ugh! Here’s a conger.”
“No!” we cried together.
“Yes there is, long as my arm, and he’s squirming about. Here, give me a landing-net. I’ll poke him, and make him come out to you chaps.”