“What—up there?” cried Dick.
“No, no, lad; in the bay. He can see fish, and he’s signalling.”
“But he can’t see fish in the bay up there.”
“Oh, yes! he can. Colour of the water, my lad. He can see a school, and—All right! The lads have seen. There goes the seine-boat.”
He pointed to a large boat that seemed laden with something brown. There were several men in her, and they had pushed off, and were rowing steadily out towards the middle of the bay, the water that they lifted with their oars flashing like silver in the sunshine.
“I can see the school, Josh,” said Will. “There, just beyond Dallow buoy;” and he stood up pointing with his hand, while the man on the cliff seemed to have a bunch of something in each hand, and to be turning himself into a human semaphore.
“Right, lad! There’s the school,” said Josh, who had also risen in the boat, and was shading his eyes with his hand. “See, Master Dick?”
“No, I can’t see anything.”
“What—not out yonder, to left of that buoy?”
“I can see the water looks dark and rippled,” said Dick.