The raft still floated uninjured; the sea continued perfectly calm. Harry and David retained their health and spirits, hoping that they should reach the land at last; and the old man appeared to be steadily recovering. The calm tried them in one respect more than when the wind blew, because after the raft had been strengthened they had nothing to do. They talked of the past and of the future, but even friends cannot talk on all day, especially if they are hungry and thirsty, and are anxious about any matter. At last David recollected that they had taken some fishing lines and hooks out of the boat, and thrown them with other articles on the raft. They were soon discovered, and the lads flattered themselves that they had nothing more to do than to bait the hooks, if bait could be found, and to throw them overboard. Old Jefferies smiled when he saw their preparations, and told them that, although certain fish were to be caught occasionally in the open sea, the greater number were to be found along the coasts of the different countries of the world. “To my mind God has so ordered it that all the fish which best serve for the food of man swim round and round the coasts of the countries of the world, in shallow water, where they can be got at and caught, or else they visit certain known spots, like the banks of Newfoundland, or the fishing grounds in the North Sea. Now if they all lived in the deep seas, or kept wandering about to all parts just as fancy led them, fishermen would never know where to go and look for them. Instead of that, as I have said, as the seasons come round, God leads them to the same places and almost on the same day every year; and so the fisherman is prepared with his nets or lines to catch them. However, I don’t mean to say that there are no fish out even in mid-ocean, and if we get our lines, perhaps we shall catch some.”
The lines were fitted in different ways; one with a heavy lead that it might sink towards the bottom, the other to throw to a distance, and then to drag quickly back again. The chief difficulty was with regard to the bait. David, however, proposed using a piece of salt pork, though old Jefferies thought that no fish would bite at it.
“I’ll try, at all events,” he answered; and baiting his hook he threw it skilfully to a considerable distance. He tried over and over again till his arm grew tired, while Henry let his line down to its entire end, but neither of them got a bite.
“Very little use, I am afraid,” said Harry, drawing up his line.
“Let it hang out, at all events. It can do no harm, and something may take a fancy to it,” observed David, again throwing his own line. “Halloa! I have got something—a big fellow, too—he’ll pull me off the raft if I don’t take care. Lend a hand, Harry.”
Harry took hold of the line. Now they were able to haul in some of the line, and then again the fish swam off in an opposite direction, actually moving the raft.
“It may be a porpoise,” said Harry.
“Perhaps it is a shark!” exclaimed David. “It can’t be a young whale.”
“It is a big fish of some sort, of that there is no doubt,” responded Harry. “The fellow will get tired before long, and then we will make him show his nose.”
“If he does not cut through the line before that,” observed old Jefferies, who would not pronounce as to what fish it was.