The fish of the lagoon had crowded themselves into a minor embayment of the shore. There were innumerable leapings there.
"There should be plenty of fish collected now," said Terry distastefully. "I certainly can't herd them ashore."
The outboard boat pushed away from the yacht, its motor roaring. It reached the area in which the water seemed to seethe and surge with the motion of densely-crowded swimming creatures. The people in the boat examined the surrounding water, then the boat came back at top speed.
"They're there!" called Davis. "And thick enough to walk on! I clearly saw some freaks that must come up from the bottom! We want to collect them!"
"I speared five just now," Terry told him, "and one of them was wearing this."
He held up the plastic object he'd found. There was silence for a moment. Then Dr. Morton said briskly, "We'll want fish spears. We'll take all the boats and go after some more of these piscatory oddities. Who's best with a spear?"
Davis would go. He could use the two fish spears that were standard equipment for the outboard. The staff of the tracking station scattered to launch other boats. Only Terry and Deirdre remained on the Esperance. It was necessary for someone to stand by the recorder.
Boats moved away across the water. One stout member of the island's staff trudged along the shore.
"You're driving them," said Deirdre. "You are right."
"I wish I weren't," said Terry.