This was consequent upon another good-sized fish flying out of the water, falling heavily upon one of the rush floats, and then darting away.
“Nay, we sha’n’t lose ’em all,” said Dave coolly. “Some on ’em’s safe to go. Now, then, splash away. Reach over your end, young Tom Tallington, or some on ’em ’ll go round that way.”
Tom changed his place a little, to stand now on what had been the front of their advance, and thrusting in his pole he splashed and beat the narrow space between him and the dense boggy side, where the sphagnum came down into the water.
Dick followed suit at the other end, and Dave swept his pole sidewise as if he were mowing weeds below the surface.
“Oh!” cried Dick, as he overbalanced himself, and nearly went in from the stern. He would have gone headlong had not Mr Marston made a bound, and caught him as he vainly strove to recover his balance.
The effort was well timed, and saved him, but of course the consequences of jumping about in a boat are well-known. The punt gave such a lurch that Dave almost went out, while, as for Tom, he was literally jerked up as from a spring-board, and, dropping his pole, he seemed to be taking a voluntary dive, describing a semicircle, and going down head-first, not into the narrow slit between him and the boggy shore, but right into the semi-fluid mass of sphagnum, water, and ooze, where he disappeared to his knees.
Tom’s dive sent the boat, as he impelled it with his feet, a couple of yards away; and for a moment or two those who were in it seemed half paralysed, till a roar of laughter from Dick, who did not realise the danger, roused Dave to action.
For the dense mass, while fluid enough to allow Tom to dive in, was not sufficiently loose to let him rise; and there he stuck, head downwards, and with his legs kicking furiously.
“Now if we was to leave him,” said Dave sententiously, “he wouldn’t never be no more trouble to his father; but I suppose we must pull him out.”
“Pull him out, man? Quick, use your pole!”