“But he’s a very big one,” said Dick, seeking to make up for the disappointment.
“Yes, she’s big enough,” said Josh; “but they don’t pay for taking.”
“Better luck next run down,” said Will, as they rowed back to the first buoy, he helping this time with an oar. “The fish feed better when it begins to be dusk; they can’t see the line.”
“But they would not be able to see the bait.”
“Then they would smell it,” said Will. “Fish generally feed best in the dark.”
The buoy was reached, and the line once more hauled aboard, this time with a grey gurnard on the first hook. The second was bare. The third and fourth both had gurnards upon them. Then there was an untouched bait, and then a very large plaice, dotted with orange spots, whose appearance made Josh grunt with satisfaction. Next came a large sole, then a small one, and again a large sole, after which there was a long array of empty hooks, and Dick began to feel dissatisfied, for there was no work for the gaff-hook.
“Here’s a conger, I think,” said Will suddenly.
“A conger!” cried Dick excitedly, as he began to think of gigantic creatures like sea-serpents.
“Yes, a small one. Get your knife, Josh.”
The latter opened his big knife, and as a great eel about three feet long was drawn over the side they did not trouble to extract the hook which was swallowed right down; but Josh cut the string of the snooding close to the living creature’s jaws, and let it drop in the boat, about which it began to travel serpent-fashion to Dick’s great discomfort.