And the way the water flew was a caution. A young whale working its way up the river from the gulf, or rather a porpoise, since whales are not to be found often in the Sunny South, could not have created a greater racket.
Of course every fellow, after that first shock, sprang to his feet, and made for the shore as fast as his legs could carry him. It might be a ludicrous sight, all very well, but there was a little element of danger connected with it; and they were comrades true, who could not stand by, and see poor Buster dragged out into the middle of the river by a fish.
When the splashing had in a measure subsided, they discovered the stout figure of Buster. He was standing in the yellow water up to his waist and tugging with all his might at the fish line, which he seemed to have wrapped around both hands, as though just determined that his prize should not get away.
Now the boy would gain a foot, and seem to be dragging his capture toward land; when there would be a sudden tremendous effort on the part of the fish to escape, and the first thing Buster knew, he was being pulled back again, though he fought tooth and nail to hold his own.
Once his feet flew from under him, owing to the slippery condition of the mud on which he stood. At that a great “Oh!” broke out from the other five boys; and Jack, who had been hastily removing some of his outer garments, with the intention of being ready in case his help was needed, was just on the point of jumping in, when Buster again emerged from the turmoil, rising up like a Neptune, the water pouring from his head like a young Niagara.
“Let him go, Buster; he’s too much for you!” shrilled George, who was leaning over the edge of his boat with a pole in his hand, and regardless for once that the cranky Wireless careened far down until her beam end almost took in water.
“I won’t!” snapped back the stubborn Buster, shaking the drops from his face, as a New Foundland dog might after a bath. “He’s mine, and I’m going to grab him if it takes all summer, see?”
He had managed to get a good footing once more, and started to tug manfully with the result that he immediately gained several yards. This was the best he had done as yet, and in consequence he seemed to receive inspiration to make a still greater exertion.
After that the victory was as good as won.
Buster marched out on the bank the line over his shoulder; and as soon as they could do so without wetting themselves Josh and Herb seized hold of the stout cord.