“Now then, my lad, give him a good stir up. Don’t be afraid. Make him savage, or else he won’t hold on.”
With a dimly defined notion of what we were aiming at, I gave the pole a good wrench round in the hole, feeling it strike against something, and almost simultaneously feeling something strike against it.
“That’s the way, sir. Give it him again.”
Growing reckless now, and feeling that I must not shrink, I gave the pole another twist round, with the result that it was snatched out of my hand.
“He has it,” cried Morgan, excitedly. “Feel if he has got it fast, Master George.”
I took hold of the pole, gazing down with no little trepidation, in the expectation of at any moment seeing some hideous monster rush out, ready to seize and devour me.
But there was no response to my touch, the pole coming loosely into my hand.
“Give him another stir up, Master George. They tell me that’s the way they do it to make them savage.”
“But do we want to make the creature savage?” I said.
“Course we do! There, you do as I tell you, my lad, and you’ll see.”