“What are the spreaders?”
“Long poles to keep the ends of the net stretched. They’ve got lead at the bottom, like the net, to keep them on the sand.”
“Look out!” shouted the captain of the seine. “Here they come!”
The men hauled the harder, and oars were splashed in all three boats, the smaller rowing to and fro, with the result that the surface of the water became calm once more, not the sign of a ripple to betoken the presence of a fish; but no one ceased his efforts.
“Are they gone, Will?” asked Dick.
“No, they’ve only gone below; they’re hunting all about the seine for a hole to escape, and the thing is now whether they follow it on to one of the ends: if they do, it’s only follow my leader, not one will be left.”
It was a long job, but the men worked with all their might, keeping up their steady strain at the ropes, and gradually reducing the circle, till at last the two ends of the net were brought together and made to overlap safely, but there was not a sign of the fish.
“They’ve got away,” said Dick.
“I’m afraid so,” said Will, for there was an ominous silence among the fishermen, who had been at work all this while apparently for nothing. Then all at once there was a loud cheer, for the shoal, a very large one, suddenly appeared at the top again, fretting the water as the fish swam here and there, shut-up as they were in an irregular circle about two hundred yards across, and hopelessly entangled, for if there had been a loophole of escape they would have found it now.
“There won’t be no storm to-day,” said Josh, looking round, “so they’ve got them safe, and now, my lads, what do you say to a bit o’ brexfass?”