“Why didn’t you be quicker, Bob?” said Harry, “I know I could have caught him. How jolly tiresome! Do be careful next time.”
“Why, wasn’t I careful?” said Bob. “There ain’t a slipperier thing anywheres, than one of them big eels. There ain’t no holding of them at all when there are no holes in the bottom of the traps; and of course I couldn’t stop that un without any salt to put on his tail.”
“Don’t talk such stuff,” said Philip; “we are not children, and you don’t think we believe all that rubbish about salt on tails, do you?”
Bob indulged in a long low chuckle, and then led the way to the last trap under the mill, though there was one at the head of the waste-water outside. It was very dark in the corner where they now went, but in spite of the darkness the boys could see the silvery gleam of something moving behind the bars, while Bob suddenly grinned out—
“Now then, young gents, here they are; but stop while I fetches a pail.”
Bob went upon his errand, and slowly ascended the steps that led into the mill, while the boys crept as close as possible to the trap, through which the water was rushing swiftly. It was very evident that there were several good-sized fish in; but while they looked, something seemed to dart down from above, there was a great splashing and flapping about, and then it grew pretty evident that a new-comer had joined the prisoners—who had all commenced bobbing and flopping about, as though to remonstrate against his arrival.
And now came Bob with a great pail, which he held under the sliding door of the trap, telling Harry to pull it open. He did so, and into it glided the pailful of different kinds of fish, while one monster of an eel got half his body over the side and slipped out on to the damp floor, where he began to wriggle and twist, evidently meaning to get down one of the wheel channels. But Bob had seen one fine fellow slip away that morning, and did not mean to lose this one; for he knew it would be worth shillings to him, either to sell, or to send by his young visitors up to Squire Inglis’s; so at it he dashed, nearly upsetting the pail as he hastily banged it down. And now began a regular battle, the eel making for the water, and the eel-catcher keeping him away. It was one of those monsters that are rarely caught by hook and line, but which lie in the deep muddy holes of rivers, out of which places they mostly sally when there is a flood.
Strong! it was as strong, Bob said, as a horse, and writhed and twisted about so that he could not retain his grasp upon its slippery shiny skin.
Twice he got it up in a corner, tight up against the brick wall, and away it went again close to the water’s edge and was nearly lost, but for a lucky kick from Harry which saved it. No one else cared about touching the monster, and at last it appeared as though the prize would escape after all, for Bob was trying to retain it with one hand only—the other appearing to be disabled in some way or another; but it was not so, for Bob meant mischief, and his hand reappeared with his great bread and cheese knife, which he opened with his teeth, and then, with one great gash, nearly severed the unfortunate eel’s head from his snaky body.
“There!” said Bob, triumphantly; “that are the biggest eel I ever caught in this here water. Why, he weighs six pound, I know he do. Shut the door of that ere trap again, Master Harry, and there’ll be some more to-night, I know.”