It was Nic who made the next suggestion.
“Pete,” he said quickly, “why not take the head off the pole? It is very small for a boat-hook, and it is quite bright. There’s a hole for you to fasten the line to, and a big pike-like fish might run at it as it is drawn through the water.”
“Of course it might, lad. Well, that is a good idea. Why waren’t I born clever?”
Pete set to work at once, and after a great deal of hard work he managed to cut away the wood from the nail-like rivet which held the head on to the shaft, after which a few blows sufficed to break the iron hook away, with the cross rivet still in place, ready to serve as a hold for the newly-made line.
“Wonder whether a vish’ll take it, Master Nic,” said Pete as he stood up in the boat. “Now if it was one o’ them ’gators I could lash my knife on to the end of the pole and spear a little un, but I s’pose it wouldn’t be good to eat.”
Nic shook his head.
“Might manage one to-morrow, zir, if we don’t ketch a vish.”
Nic shook his head again.
“I mean, zir, when we’re nex’ door to starvation-point. Don’t feel as if I could touch one to-day.”
“Don’t talk about the horrible reptiles, Pete,” said Nic, with a shudder.