“Now then, both together; that line will hold!” cried Shaddy excitedly; “get him right up and see what he is, and if he begins to fight fierce let him have one more run to finish his flurry, as the whalers call the last fight.”
“Ready, Joe?”
“Yes.”
“Both together, then.”
There were a few short steady pulls, hand over hand, and the prisoner was drawn nearer and nearer, and raised from the bottom slowly and surely, while, as full of excitement now as the lads, Brazier and Shaddy stood close to the edge watching.
“Hurrah!” cried Rob, who was nearest to the gunwale. “I can see him now!”
“Well, what is it—a mud-fish?” asked Brazier.
“No,” said Joe, straining his neck to get a glimpse through the clear water, the disturbed mud raised by the struggles of the fish being rapidly swept away. “It’s a dorado: I can see his golden scales!”
“Then he’s a regular whopper, my lads. Steady, don’t lose him!” cried Shaddy. “Shall I come on board?”
“No, not yet,” said Joe excitedly. “He may make another rush.”