“Let me haul him in.”
“No, no,” said Will. “You’d better let me. You’ll get too wet. Be ready with the hook.”
“Yes, yes, I am,” cried Dick, more excitedly than ever.
But he began to look disappointed as he saw three bare hooks drawn out, all of which Will baited and passed on, to fall into the sea on the other side.
“Why, there can’t be,” began Dick. “Yes, there he is; I can see him.”
“Yes, here he comes,” said Will, hauling strongly now as a great quivering grey object changing to white could be seen below. “Ready with the hook! slip it into him anywhere, and haul him aboard. Never mind a bit of splashing.”
But Dick did flinch for a few moments as something came to the surface, beating, flapping, and sending the water flying; while before the lad had recovered from his surprise, Josh had bent forward, taken the hook, and lifted the great fish on board just as it freed itself from the hook, and lay floundering at the bottom of the boat.
“Skate,” cried Dick. “What a monster!”
“No,” cried Will, coolly rebaiting the hook; “it’s his first cousin. That’s a thornback. Mind his prickles.”
The great ugly sharky fish was hooked forward by Josh and placed in a great basket, where it lay writhing its eely tail, and flapping its wing-like fins as the boat slowly progressed, and bait after bait was replaced, many being untouched, the thornback, skate, or ray being the only fish taken.