'Any time you want anything done, I'll do it,' the trimmer declared, and departed.
As there was nothing to detain Charlie in the galley he went forward to assist in hauling. The skipper was on the bridge; the mate was working the donkey-engine, which was fast drawing in the long wire ropes attached to the net, and the deck hands stood at the starboard-side gunwale, watching for the net to appear. An electric light was hung up at the bridge, so that the men could see to do the work they had in hand. For a moment or two Charlie stood at the foot of the bridge, waiting for the skipper or the mate to tell him what to do.
'Stand here,' Ping Wang said, quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.
Charlie nodded his head and took up his position about three feet away from the Chinaman. Soon the net appeared above water, and the men, bending over the gunwale, grasped it with their hands, and, tugging all together, pulled it slowly but surely upwards.
'Where are the fish?' Charlie asked, surprised at seeing none in the part of the net at which they had been tugging.
'For'ard,' Ping Wang answered, and as he spoke the donkey-engine started panting and puffing, and the part of the net to which the Chinaman had pointed was now raised high above the gunwale. It resembled a huge cooking-net which had been lifted out of a gigantic pan. It was crowded with fish, and as it was pulled in and suspended over the pound made on the deck, the very small fish, mostly dead, fell through. Others, with wide-opened mouths, were caught in the meshes. A fisherman now stepped under the dripping net, untied it at the bottom, and sprang quickly aside as the catch of fish fell with a thud into the pound.
'What a mixture!' Charlie exclaimed as he gazed at the fish jumping, wriggling, and sliding about in the pound. 'What are they?'
'Cod, plaice, haddock, and turbot,' Ping Wang replied, but he only named a few of them. The catch included also ling, sole, whiting, dab, gurnet, oysters, crabs, whelks, cat-fish, star-fish, and a large amount of ocean scrapings.
Charlie stood watching the struggling mass, deeply interested, but Ping Wang whispered to him, 'Come away, or you'll have the skipper at you. We are going to shoot now.'
Charlie bestirred himself at once, and assisted in shooting the gear. When that had been done without a hitch, the work of sorting, cleaning, and packing the fish was begun. Three men stepped into the pound, trampling on the fish until they had made a clear space for their feet.