Now came the most exciting moment—to discover the results of the hour’s trawling.
Fishermen do not always catch fish, but Mr Nugent was sure that numberless living things would be brought up in which he would be interested.
“Now see what we’ve got! see what we’ve got!” shouted Marshall, with all the enthusiasm of a naturalist; nor was Mr Nugent much less excited.
Up came the purse, with a mass of living things floundering and wriggling, and twisting about, with one huge monster in the centre. A part of the deck was sunk for the purpose, and into it the whole living mass was turned.
“Well, it isn’t often I’ve seen such a haul as this,” exclaimed Toby; “but take care, young gentlemen, that big fellow don’t catch hold of any of your fingers. He’d have them off in no time. We’ll haul him up out of that, or he’ll be knocking all Mr Nugent’s curiosities to pieces with his tail.”
“What is it, what is it?” was the question asked by all. Even Mr Nugent could not tell.
The monster at which they were gazing was fully six feet long, almost flat, of a dark brown colour, and a rough shark-like skin, with a huge broad head, and very widely-extended side fins.
Toby replied, “Some calls him an angel, and others a monk-fish, or a flat shark; but to my mind he’s very little of the angel about him, and if he’s a monk he’s a very ugly monk, you’ll all allow. He is very strong. If you were to stand on him, master Digby, he would lift you up.”
Digby did stand on him, and the huge fish gave a heave, and a snap with his jaws which made him jump off at a great rate.
“What, did you think the monk was going to leap overboard with you?” exclaimed Power, laughing.