Three
Terry stared incredulously. Someone moved beside him. It was Davis. He spoke in a dry voice.
"I would think," he said detachedly, "that La Rubia could catch a boatload of fish in that water with a single haul of her nets. Certainly with two."
Terry turned his head.
"But what is it? What makes these fish gather like this?"
"An interesting question," said Davis. "We'll try to find out how it happens. Even more interesting, I'd like to know why."
He moved away along the deck. Terry went close to the side rail. A few minutes later the startling glare of one of the side searchlights smote upon the water away from the incredible scene. It moved slowly back and forth. Where the light struck, the sea seemed totally commonplace. No fish could be seen. Then the white beam swept here and there in jerky leapings. There was nothing unusual on the surface, nothing beyond the limit of brightness, where the sea turned dark.
Deirdre said at Terry's side, "We didn't really expect this! I'm going to get a sample of the water, Terry. Want to help?"
She ignored his haughty withdrawal of the afternoon, and he could not stand on his dignity in the presence of such an incredible phenomenon. She got a water bucket from the nearby rack. A wave sprung up as she tried to fill the bucket overside. It touched her hand and she cried out. Terry jerked her back by the shoulder. The bucket bumped against the Esperance's side, hanging on the line attached to the rail.