This proved to be true. When the fishermen hauled up their net there was a big hole torn in it by the shark, who had been entangled in it and had tried to get out. Through this hole many fish had escaped. But still there was a goodly load which half-filled the boat.
The fish were dipped out of the drawn purse net by smaller scoop, or dip, nets, and dumped, flapping and leaping, into the bottom of the boat on top of the shark.
Then, indeed, Ted was glad of the oilskin he had wrapped about him. For some of the fish flapped on him, slapping him with their tails, covering him with salt water and spray. There were some big bluefish in the catch, at the sight of which the eyes of the captain gleamed.
“I’ll get a good price for those,” he said. “Bluefish are scarce. Haven’t had any in a dog’s age. The bluefish must have been so frightened at the shark that they didn’t dare run away.”
There were also sea bass in the net, and many queer fish that seemed to have two wings.
“What are those?” asked Ted, when the net was emptied and the boat started for shore.
“Sea robins,” answered one of the men.
“They’re not the kind of robins that sing, either,” added another, and he began tossing overboard the sea robins, which are of no use as food.
Ted felt quite proud of himself as the boat rode through the surf and up on the beach. Other men from the fishery were waiting for it, and as soon as it was near enough a big hook was put in a loop of rope in the bow of the boat, and a team of horses hauled the craft well up on the sand, out of reach of the high tide waves.
Ted almost wished there might have been more danger as the boat came through the surf. Sometimes the fishing boats upset, he had heard. But though the sea was rough Captain Oleson skillfully steered his craft in and hardly any water came aboard.