“I never asked anyone’s counsel when I was making a fool of myself, nor shall I do so now that I have come to my senses.”
And as he said this he went softly up to the cradle where his son lay fast asleep, wound the reins round and round the rockers of the cradle, lashed the cradle to his own back, and started to run away with his son.
Softly Plunk strode over the golden sand—strode through the mighty Hall, spacious as a wide meadow; slipped through the golden hedge, parting the branches of pearls; and when he came to where the sea stood up like a wall, nothing daunted, Plunk dived into the water with his boy.
But it is far—terribly far—from the Sea King’s fastness to the world of day above! Plunk swam and swam; but how was a poor fisherman to swim when he was weighed down by the little King—golden cradle, golden apple and all—on his back?
Plunk felt as if the sea was piling itself up above him, higher and higher, and heavier and heavier!
And just as Plunk was at the last gasp, he felt something scrape along the golden cradle, something that caught in the rocker of the cradle; and when it had caught fast, it began to haul them along apace!
“Now it’s all up with me!” said poor Plunk to himself. “Here’s a sea-monster carrying me away on his tusk.”
But it wasn’t the tusk of a sea-monster; it was a bone fish-hook, the very hook that Plunk’s wife had let down.
When the Woman felt that her hook had caught, she joyfully summoned all her strength, pulling and hauling with all her might, for fear of losing the great Big Bass.
As she began to haul in her catch the golden rocker began to show above the water. The Woman could not distinguish it rightly by moonlight, but thought: “It is the golden fin of the Bass.”