But at the first drag he made at the line, the fish gave a peculiar wallow, which felt as if it had spun itself round in the water, and began in spite of the mate’s efforts to move off, the line gliding through his fingers, till by a sudden action he twisted the slack round his hand and held on.
“Now isn’t it a big one?” cried Jack. “Look here, doctor.”
“I’m looking. Why, Jack, you’ve got hold of that snake’s grandfather. Mind what you’re doing, or you’ll have the sea serpent aboard.”
“What!” cried the lad, looking aghast.
“Hurrah! I’ve got one too,” cried the doctor. “Humph! only a little one;” and he began to haul in. “Hurrah! something else has taken it,” he shouted. “Here, Bartlett, I’ve got hold of a whale.”
“We’ve got a shark,” said the mate. “Look at the boat.”
“Let go—let go quick!” cried Jack excitedly; “the fish is running away with us.”
“And no mistake,” said the doctor. “Mine’s helping. Why, Jack, this is something like sport.”
“How can you laugh!” cried the boy; “it must be horribly dangerous. Cut the line;” and Edward’s knife was hastily opened.
“Oh no,” said the mate, “we don’t want to lose that, it will break directly close to the hook.”