Chapter 9. Which Is Rather Fishy

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_ CHAPTER NINE. WHICH IS RATHER FISHY

That very same afternoon, Dusty Bob was in the mill, looking dustier than ever, and trying, as he sat upon a sack of corn that had come to be ground, to spell out the contents of the county paper; but he did not get on very fast, for the white or papery part had, through ill-usage, turned very black, and the black or printed part, by means of the fine flour dust, turned very white. Joining to this the fact that Bob was, as he expressed it, "no skollard," it may easily be judged that he did not arrive at very correct ideas respecting the news of the day, or rather of the day a month ago; for Dusty Bob did not indulge in the luxury of new news, but bought it fifth, sixth, or seventh hand, not disdaining sometimes the piece which had come from the grocer's shop wrapping up the pound of salt. The mill was not quite so noisy this afternoon as upon the last occasion when we were all here together, for the flood had gone down, and there was no rush and hurried turmoil from the portion of the river passing down by the waste-water, while the mill wheels turned slowly and steadily round as a sheet of crystal clearness flowed upon them from the great dam.

"Ah, aw, yaw--yaw, aw," said Bob, bursting out into such a yawn that his not very handsome face looked as if it had been cut in two. "Aw, yaw, aw, aw, heigho--ha, ha--hum."

"Knock, knock; rap, rap, rap."

"Hah! more corn; more corn; more corn. Tain't no use to bring't, a bit; for we have more noo than we've got watter for; and then yow'll come grummle, grummle, grummle, because 'tisn't doone; sow yow'd betther tak't somewheres else."

"Knock, knock; rap, rap, rap," came the summons at the gate again; and this time, instead of muttering and "grumbling" to himself, Dusty Bob got up and went to see who was there.

"Sarvant, sir," said Bob, as he saw who it was, and then burst out into a grin; for behind Squire Inglis stood his visitors of a few days before, and Bob was luxuriating in the recollection of how he had restored the lost basket of fish.

"Well, Bob," said Mr Inglis, entering the mill, followed by the three boys, each armed with a fishing-rod and basket, big enough apparently to hold a great many more fish than they would catch that afternoon; "Well, Bob," said Mr Inglis, "how are you off for fish?"

"Heaps on 'em, sir, down below in the pool; but I'm 'feard they weant feed, for it's rather a bad time. Thou'd best fish off the right bank just over the stream from number one wheel. There be plenty o' fishing, for this mornin', only, when the mill was stopped for half-an-hour, the great fat chub lay a-top of the water as long as your arm ammost; but I'm most 'feard that the roach weant look at a bait."

Bob then led the way through the mill, and the fishing-party soon stood on the long, narrow, tree-o'ershadowed strip of land that separated the mill tail from the waste-water; and here, where the stream ran swiftly and deeply, did the party prepare to secure some of the finny treasures.

Rods were quickly put together; lines securely fixed; and best new gut hooks added. Then the depth was plumbed; the floats adjusted and shotted to the correct "cock;" and then hooks baited, and ground-bait of bran and clay and rice thrown upon the mill apron, to dissolve slowly and spread all over the pool. Lastly, lines are thrown in, and silence proclaimed, so that the first nibbles might be duly attended to.

In every place where there are fish one is sure to hear of a mighty jack that lies out in some particular part, and is occasionally seen in the early morning, or basking in the mid-day sun, looking almost as big as a man,--in fact, so big that nobody could catch him, one that ever so many fishermen had had hold of, but which always broke away and escaped; and somehow or other, although this mighty fellow must have swallowed and got stuck in his mouth and gills enough hooks, and trailing away from him enough line, to stock a small shop, yet, leave alone being caught, he never even dies, and floats wrong way up on the top of the water. Well, this was the case here: Bob had seen a pike so big that no mortal rod and line could ever bear it; he could tell of somewhere about ten or a dozen fishermen who had once had hold of him, so that Mr Jack must have thought no more of the sharpest barbed hooks than he would of so many quill toothpicks.

"Lord, sir," said Bob, "whoy doan't thee trowl for the big jack? I see him this morning ligging a-top of the waiter like a big log o' wood."

"Indeed, Bob; well, I'll try for a few chub first, and then, if unsuccessful, see what I can do in the pike way."

So Mr Inglis fished very patiently and quietly for some time, and tried two or three different kinds of bait to tempt the chubby fellows; but they would not be tempted, until at last a small gudgeon was placed on the hook, one which Fred had caught, being the first fish taken that afternoon, for Bob had turned out a very respectable prophet, and the boys were having very poor sport indeed.

And now Mr Inglis tried in all the most likely spots for a chub with his live-bait, and at last one took it, was struck, and then darted away swift as an arrow from a bow--right, left, straight ahead, through the smooth water, and off again where the stream ran swiftest; but it was of no avail; the line that he had run out was wound up, and the fine fellow drawn inshore so closely that Harry could put the landing-net under him, and then, with a tremendous burst of impotent flapping and splashing, a great chub about two pounds and a half weight was laid upon the grass, with his broad scales glistening in the sun.

"That's a napper," said Bob.

"Oh--oh--oh--oh!" burst in chorus from the boys--a shout of pleasure nearly turned into a groan, for Philip, in lifting the fish to put him in the basket, felt it give a great spring, which so startled him that he dropped it, so there it lay close to the edge of the wood embankment, and a single flap of his tail would have borne him away; but time enough was not allowed, for Harry pounced upon him like a cat after a mouse, and, in spite of his slimy jacket, he was soon safely shut down in one of the baskets.

The boys kept on with indifferent success--only securing a few small roach and gudgeon; and Mr Inglis, too, seemed as though he would have no further good fortune, for the chub appeared to have turned sulky because their big companion was taken away, and would not even smell the gudgeon. At last, however, Mr Inglis made a cast, and the little bait-fish fell lightly just beneath a bush close under the bank; when there was a rush through the water, and a swirling that took everybody's attention, and then, as Mr Inglis swiftly drew out the line from off his reel, away it glided through the rings of the rod, yard after yard-- yard after yard--swifter and swifter--as though the fish that had taken the gudgeon meant to run the line all out; and sure enough it did the whole fifty yards; and Mr Inglis was reaching out his rod as far as he could stretch his hand, so as to avoid checking the fish, if possible, and so losing it, when the line suddenly grew slack. There all eyes were strained towards the spot where the large tell-tale cork-float slowly rose to the surface, and its white top could be seen stationary right on the far side of the mill-pool. What little slack line there was, Mr Inglis now wound in, and telling Harry to be ready with the landing-net, he waited patiently for a few minutes to give the fish time to gorge his prey, though, from the way in which the float had run to the surface, he was afraid that the fish had left his bait. At last, Mr Inglis gathered the line up in his hand, and gave a sharp twist of his wrist, and all eyes were bent upon the spot to witness the struggle; but alas! there was no resistance. The great float glided easily over the water, and then Mr Inglis began to wind in, for it was evident that the pike had merely taken the bait because he could not bear to see it pass him--not because he was hungry--and then, after playing with it, let it go again.

"Never mind, boys," said the Squire, "better success next time."

The words, however, were hardly out of his mouth, when there was a tremendous swirl and rush again in the water; and away with a bob--bob-- bob--went the float, then under water, and out of sight once more.

There was another pause of five minutes, and then again Mr Inglis drew in what slack line there was very carefully, waited another minute, when, the float again rose to the surface, but only to move off in another direction, for it was evident that the pike had this time well taken the bait.

And now followed moments of interest, as the Squire struck the fish, and then gave him line, for with one flick of his great tail he went across the pool in a fresh direction, luckily making a great deal of slack line as he did so. The battle now began in real earnest, for every time the pike felt the line tightened away he darted, first in one direction, and then in another, while once he came close in to where his tormentor was standing, so that a great deal of the running line was wound in; but, the moment after, he started off with a swifter rush than ever right across the pool, making the line sing and the winch spin furiously, as the thin cord ran through the rings as it was reeled off. Mr Inglis had to slightly check the line so as to retard his progress, or else most probably the cord would have been snapped; but no sooner did the fish find that he was held than he made a leap of fully a yard right out of the water, displaying to the lookers-on his great gold and green sides, and looking, in the momentary glance that was afforded, almost a yard long.

In he dashed again, full of fury, and round and round, and backwards and forwards, he was played; at one time sweeping right up to the mill wheels, and nearly getting the line entangled in the piles; then making a mighty spurt to gain the river where the weeds grew so thickly; but he got no farther than the sandy bar at the mouth of the pool, where he had to turn on one side to swim in the shallows, for here he was checked again, and brought back almost unresisting into the deep water, his master's rod bending like a cart-whip as the fish was dragged back. And so for nearly half an hour did the battle continue, the fish being gently brought back after every dash he made, for Mr Inglis dared not attempt to land the monster till he was thoroughly exhausted; and well was it that the line was one of the newest and strongest, or the slight silk cord would never have borne the strain that was put upon it... But it held good, and now the exhausted fish seemed to make its last effort to escape; and it was very nearly a successful one, for, after darting about ten yards almost to the bottom of the pool, Mr Inglis found that there was some extra resistance, and that the line was entangled.

Had this happened earlier in the struggle, the pike must have been lost, for the line would have snapped; but now the fish had fought out his fight, and scarcely attempted to move, while Dusty Bob, who had been watching the proceedings with the most intense interest, went to the mill-yard and fetched the great rake he used to clear the weeds away with, and by means of a little raking he got hold of the obstruction, which upon being drawn to the surface proved to be an old branch, and round a rugged part the line was just hitched. A sharp blow from the rake snapped the bough in two, and the line was again at liberty, the great fish being drawn to the side at the mouth of the pool, where the water was only a few inches deep, and landed amidst a burst of cheers from the delighted boys, while even Bob gave a loud "Hooray," though he seemed rather sorry than otherwise that the water should lose so fine a fish; but the "Hooray" was brought forth by the thoughts of a prospective shilling which Mr Inglis would most likely give him, and then perhaps he would have to carry the fish home as well, and get some bread and cheese and ale up at the house.

So "Hooray," said Dusty Bob, with a most hypocritical countenance; and "Hooray--ay--ay--ay--ay--ay," cheered the boys again; and there were no end of epithets lavished upon the fish, such as "Beauty", "Monster," "Jolly one." etc, etc, for the admiration of the party seemed boundless.

Bob then had to carry the pike into the mill, where it was put into the flour-scales and weighed, and found to balance nineteen pounds and a half in the weight-scale--an announcement which was received with renewed cheers; and upon measurement he was found to be two feet six inches long; while of all the mouths that ever pike had, his seemed the widest and fullest of long hooked teeth--projecting backwards, so as to render it impossible for a fish to escape out of his jaws if once he caught hold of it.

This brought the fishing to a conclusion for that afternoon; and so the lines were wound up, rods disjointed and placed in their bags, and all the rest of the angling paraphernalia collected into the baskets, while one was expressly devoted to the fish. But now a new difficulty arose-- the chub could be got into the basket, but how about a pike two feet six inches long? Then, too, Bob wanted to carry the pike right up to the house--evidently meaning to make a show of it by the way, so as to be asked to have a glass of beer or two for his trouble. But this was an honour that Bob was not to have, for the boys were almost squabbling as to who should have the duty. Fred, however, soon backed out, for while touching the pike, and feeling its weight, it bent itself like a bow, and then gave such a spring that he jumped away as thou eh be had been shot, and directly waived all claims to the honour of carriage, which now lay between Harry and Philip, who at last grew so warm on the subject, that one had hold of the head and the other the tail, the latter place of vantage being occupied by Harry, and a matter of French and English tugging was about to commence when Mr Inglis interposed, and settled the matter by arranging that Philip should carry the trophy half-way, and Harry the remainder: which decision had hardly been arrived at, when Master Harry must try whether the pike would bite; which he did by holding the gasping mouth to the tail of Dusty Bob's coat.

Whether sensible that it was biting or no, the fish's mouth closed upon the floury cloth, and held there with such tenacity that the piece had to be cut out--so firmly were the jagged and hooked teeth inserted in the woolly fabric.

This, of course, produced a scolding for Master Harry for his mischievous trick, and a piece of coin for Bob to get the hole repaired; and then the party returned in triumph to tea--the boys as proud of their acquisition as any Roman conqueror who led his treasure-burdened slave through the streets of the city of Romulus. _

Read next: Chapter 10. A Sad Affair

Read previous: Chapter 8. A Short Scolding

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