“Are they very big?”
“Yes, sir, all sizes—eight and ten and twelve or fourteen feet long.”
“Well, what then?” said Steve impatiently.
“Oh, then, sir, you wait for a bite.”
“Of course, I know that! You wait for a bite in all fishing. But do you fish from a small boat?”
“Oh no, sir. You go, six or seven of you, in a decent-sized smack, and fish till you’ve loaded her—if you’re lucky.”
“But what do you do with the sharks? People don’t eat them.”
“Make isinglass of their skins?” suggested the doctor.
“Oh no, sir,” continued Jakobsen. “I’ve been out two or three times, and very good trade it is, gentlemen. You sail out to the Greenland banks, and if the weather’s good you’re all right, for the sharks bite very freely, and as the line’s very thin you can soon reel it up on a big winch.”
“But don’t they fight desperately?” said Steve eagerly. “Sharks are so strong.”