“There you are,” cried the doctor, as, after laying a quantity of line in rings beside him, he threw his own bait so cleverly that it fell with a light splash nearly on a level with his companion’s.
“Now then; a race for the first fish!” he cried, and they let out a good fifty yards of line, with the result that, while, by Lenny giving a gentle stroke or two with the oars, the boat was kept pretty well in its place, the artificial baits were carried by the current right into the middle of the shoal of fish playing about on the surface.
“Now for it,” said the doctor, who looked as excited as the boy. “We must have one directly.”
“If they will take the artificial bait,” said the mate. “Keep jerking your line, Mr Jack.”
“That way?”
“Yes; capital. Fish like to take a bait that seems to be trying to escape from them.”
“Then why don’t they do it?” said the doctor impatiently.
“Give them time,” said the mate, smiling.
“Time and line too, but they don’t seem to notice the bait.”
“They notice mine,” said Jack. “Look here.”