“I’ve got him,” he cried: “a monster!”
It certainly was a large pike of probably ten or twelve pounds, but in spite of its struggles it was drawn close in, with Dave smiling tightly the while, and ending with a broad grin, for as, in the midst of the intense excitement connected with their capture, Tom took the line and Dick leaned forward to gaff the pike, there was a struggle, a splash, the fish leaped right out of the water, and was gone.
“Hey, but why didn’t thou whip the hook into him?” cried Dave.
“I was trying to,” said Dick ruefully; “but just as I touched his side he wagged his tail and went off!”
“Niver mind, lad,” cried Dave. “Let’s look at the line. Ah, I thowt as much! Hook’s broke.”
“Any chance of catching him if we threw in again?” said Tom.
“Nay, he isn’t worth trying for. Mebbe he’d bite; mebbe he wouldn’t. He’s gone the gainest (nearest) way to his hole. Let’s try the next.”
The buoy attached to this was not in the place where it had been left, and for a few minutes the lads looked round in a puzzled way, till, with a grim smile, Dave thrust the boat close up to a reed patch, when, just as the punt began to rustle against the long crisp water-grass, a splashing was heard inside somewhere, and after parting the growth with his pole Dave stood aside for his companions to see that the bladder attached to the line had been drawn in for some little distance, and then caught in the midst of a dense tangle, beyond which a good-sized fish was tugging to get away.
It needed some effort to force the boat to where the fish was churning up the water; but at last this was effected, and this time, by leaning forward and holding Tom’s hand as a stay, Dick managed to gaff the captive and lift it into the boat.
“A beauty!” said Tom, as they gazed at the bronze, green-spotted sides of the ferocious fish, whose fang-armed jaws closed with a snap upon the handle of the gaff, from which a strong shake was needed to detach it.