Meanwhile Ebo was jerking and shaking the line furiously, as if endeavouring to get rid of the snake, but without avail, for it held on tightly, having evidently got one fold twisted round the line, and I must confess, after hearing about the poisonous nature of these creatures, to feeling rather nervous as to its behaviour if it were brought on board.
But Ebo did not mean to bring it on board. He wanted to shake it off, and what with the struggles of the fish and the writhing and twisting of the snake, it seemed every moment as if the line must break.
The black brought it close in, then let it go almost to the full length of the line, jerked it, made fierce snatches, but all in vain; and at last getting the unwelcome visitor close in, he signed to my uncle to take his knife while he raised his club for a blow, when there was a sudden cessation of the rush, and foam in the water, and fish and snake had gone.
Ebo grinned with triumph, and after examining the bait threw it out again, returning to the other side directly to draw in a satisfactory fish for our breakfast, while my uncle chatted to me about my last captive.
“This is new to me, Nat,” he said. “I never could have thought that these snakes or eels, for they seem to partake of the character of the latter, would have wound themselves round the prey they seized. The elongated fish in our part of the world, congers, dog-fish, guard-fish, and similar creatures, fasten their teeth into their prey, then setting their bodies in rapid motion like a screw, they regularly cut great pieces out of their victim. This was precisely the same as a serpent with its prey, and it is a natural history fact worth recording. But look!”
I had already felt a fish snap at my bait, checked it, and knew that I was fast into a monster. For a few moments he let me feel something heavy and inert at the end of my line, then there was a plunge and a rush, the line went hissing out, and try as I would to check it, the fish ran straight off till I dragged with all my might, and felt that either the line must break or my hands would be terribly cut.
“Give and take, Nat,” cried my uncle.
“It’s all give, uncle, and I can’t take a bit.”
I had hardly said the words when I was at liberty to take in as much as I liked, for the fish was gone, and upon drawing in my line in a terribly disappointed way, it was to find that the fish had completely bitten through the very strong wire gimp, not broken it, but bitten it as cleanly as if it had been done with a knife.
“That must have been a monster,” said Uncle Dick. “But never mind, my boy. Here, hold still and I’ll loop on another bait.”