'Yus,' said Chippy; 'nuthin' plucks an' pulls like an eel. Now he's got a good hold o' the bait, an' out he comes.'
The Raven began to pull firmly but slowly, keeping the line quite taut.
'Don't try to yank 'im out,' he said to his pupil. 'Sure's ye do, ye'll break the line an' lose the lot. Pull gently at 'im till he's tired; then out he comes, smooth an' easy.'
Three or four minutes passed before Chippy drew the snake-like head of the eel out of the black hole between the stones.
'A good un,' he snapped, drew on the line a little harder, and swung an eel weighing half a pound or more to the bank, where he promptly put one foot on the eel and drew the line taut.
'See wot I'm doin'?' said the Raven. 'If ye don't look out, he'll tangle hisself all up in yer line, an' give ye a fine old job to get 'im free.' With that he whipped out his knife, and despatched the wriggling creature by cutting off its head.
Dick now took his stick and line to try his luck, while his comrade dug out hook and bait, which had vanished down the eel's throat. Dick caught a little one in the first hole that he tried, and drew it safely to the bank. But there he failed to control its wild, sinuous movements, and it tangled itself up in his line in such a style that Chippy had to come to his aid.
After that he got on much better, and caught two good-sized ones, and held them and the line taut, while Chippy sailed in with the knife and whipped their heads off.
In a short time they had seven, for the holes were well furnished with occupants, and with these seven they stayed content. They washed them in a quiet backwater, and rubbed them as clean as they could with wisps of dry grass, and then packed them in Chippy's haversack, with more dry grass about them.
'Mek' us a jolly good supper to-night,' said the Raven.