“It’s a whacking big pike, that I know,” cried Tom. “Oh! Bracebridge, don’t let him go; that’s all.”
“I only hope no stranger will come near and find me, like a picture in the ‘Boy’s Own Book,’ fishing in statu quo,” said Ernest, laughing, “But quick, Ellis, bring the landing-net; I shall have him directly, I believe.”
There was a broad laugh as Ellis put the net under the fish—for fish there undoubtedly was. “Why, Tommy, your big pike has turned into a perch after all,” cried Ernest; “a good-sized one though. But how did you come to fancy it a pike?”
“Because he pulled so horribly; and when I saw his big jaws above water, I thought nothing but a pike could possess such a pair of gills,” answered Tom, with much simplicity.
Ernest and Ellis laughed heartily at Bouldon’s pike. Ellis took off his clothes, and wrung them dry, and assisted Tom, who was getting rapidly well, to do the same; and while Ernest put on some of his garments, he lent the remainder to clothe his companions, while theirs were drying. They very quickly got their fishing gear to rights again, and were soon, as eager as before, engaged in their sport.
The disturbance they had made in the water had not frightened away the fish, and they each of them caught several large perch. When they at last got their clothes dry enough to put on, and worked their way up to where Gregson was fishing, they found that he had actually filled his basket completely full; fulfilling his promise that with his old stick, as he called it, he would catch more fish than all the rest put together. He bought his hooks, though he could make them; but the rod, line, and float he had entirely manufactured himself, as he had all the rest of the gear, and thus he certainly had reason to be proud of his achievements.
He was horrified when he heard how nearly two of his companions had lost their lives, while all the time he had been so close at hand. When, however, they were joined by Lemon and Buttar, and Bouldon described the way Ellis had come to his rescue, everybody was loud in their praises of him except Ernest. He said nothing at the time, but as they were walking home, he took Ellis’s hand, and pressing it warmly, remarked, “You have behaved very gallantly to-day, my dear fellow. I was certain that when the opportunity offered, you would do so. No one could have done better, or shown more coolness or courage. Had it not been for you, Bouldon would have lost his life; of that I am certain. He was almost gone when I came up.”
“Why, Bracebridge, I considered that you saved both our lives,” exclaimed Ellis, in a tone of surprise at hearing himself so praised. “Had you not come up, we should both have been lost.”
“Oh! I only used a little judgment, and followed one of the many bits of good advice my father has given me from time to time,” said Ernest. “I neither ought nor will take any of the credit which belongs to you; so pray, my dear fellow, do not talk of what I have done.”
Ellis, however, argued the point; but Ernest took care that the way he had behaved should be thoroughly known and well understood by all the boys, as well as by the Doctor.