It would thus form a complete gate, shutting up the little bay, and leaving neither egress nor ingress for any fish that could not squeeze itself through the meshes. These last had been made very large; for Ossaroo did not care for the “small fry.”
It was the big fishes he was desirous of capturing—some of those large fellows who had so often glided from under his arrows, and put him out of temper by their saucy sporting.
He would see now if they would so easily escape the meshes he had so cunningly contrived for them.
Proceeding, therefore, to the straits, he set his net across the narrowest part, and just by the entrance to the bay. The thing was easily accomplished, he tied the rawhide rope to a sapling on one side, that grew down by the edge of the water. Then holding the upper edge—so that the net would settle regularly in the water—he waded across, carrying the line along with him, and made it secure on the other side. Of course the sinkers did their work by dragging the lower selvage downward, while the floats kept the upper edge from dipping below the surface of the water.
There was a large tree upon the opposite side—so large that its great branches spread half-way across the little strait—and when the sun was on that side, which it always was after the hour of noon, this tree, covered with thick foliage, quite shadowed the water, rendering it of darkish colour, and somewhat obscure. At this hour the fish could not be so easily seen, even against the background of the silvery sand at the bottom.
Now Ossaroo had chosen the hour when the sun was gone behind the tree, for he knew that in a very clear sunshine the fish would perceive the net, and of course put about, and shy off from it. He had, therefore, waited for the afternoon to make his first essay.
Having fastened both ends, and adjusted the whole matter to his liking, he sat down upon the bank; and, summoning all his patience, awaited the result.