The old sailor filled and lit his pipe with a twinkle in his eye. "Wait jist one half hour an' they'll begin to bite," he announced, calmly.
"Have you made special arrangements with them," Walter inquired.
"Not quite, but fish have their habits the same as people," the captain explained. "They only bite at certain tides. Seems like they had their regular mealtime as one might say, only they go by tides instead of a clock. It's the last of the ebb tide now. In a few minutes it will be flood tide and the fish will all be hunting their breakfasts."
"But I have caught fish on both ebb and flood tides, captain," Charley objected.
"Yes, an' there are people, too, who are always eating between meals," the old sailor retorted, "but most of them are contented with their regular mealtime."
"Golly! dis nigger often wonders how you keeps track ob dem tides," Chris remarked. "I can't tell nothin' 'bout dem, 'cept when I'se on de shore an' can watch the rise and fall."
"It's simple, lad," explained the old sailor. "It's the moon that causes the tides. All one has to do is to notice the moon. When the moon is coming up the tide is going down. When the moon is going down the tide is coming up. No matter where you are it is always the same."
"I've got a bite," Charley announced, and moon and tides were straightway forgotten by the eager little party.
It seemed as though his announcement had been the breakfast bell for the finny creatures below, for before he had got his fish to the surface, his companions were hauling furiously on the lines.
Charley gave a shout of exultation as he swung his prize aboard. It was a chunky, reddish fish with mouth and fins of scarlet, and was about fifteen pounds in weight.