"Oh my, what a mess!" cried Mercer, coming to my help. "Ugh! you nasty, slimy wretch! Mind, or he'll be off back into the--Ah, would you?"

He seized the line, and drew the eel farther from the water's edge, waiting his opportunity, which came directly, for the fish rapidly untwined itself, plunged its head amongst the gra.s.s, and began to make its way like a snake when its course was checked by Mercer's foot planted firmly behind its head.

"Ugh! how cruel!" I said.

"Serve him right. He's grown to be as big as this by catching and eating all the poor little fish that went near him. He's good to eat too, and what a big one! Why, he must be over a pound. Oh my, what a mess!" he continued. "He has swallowed the hook right down, and there's no getting it out till he's dead. Here, give me your handkerchief, I'll use mine when I catch one."

I took out my handkerchief, and by his directions spread it upon the gra.s.s, when he raised his foot, lifted up the line, and the fish again twisted itself into a knot.

"That's the way," he said. "Now then, I'll drop him gently on to the handkerchief, and you take the cross corners and tie them over him tight, and then the other two. Ready?"

"Yes," I said, feeling no little repugnance to the slimy creature, but getting first one knot and then the other fast over the big round writhing fish, and this done to my companion's satisfaction, he whipped out his knife and cut the line.

"There," he said, "we mustn't lose sight of him, or he'll eat his way out if he don't find another way through the folds. No; I think he's safe. I'll hang him here."

"Here" was the rugged stump of a small branch of one of the nearest trees.

"Now," he said, "I'll try and catch one too before we go, and we shan't have done so very badly."

"But you've cut my hook off," I said. "How am I to fish?"

"You'll have to watch me, for I haven't another hook. Come along. We mustn't stop much longer, or we shan't be back to tea. Stand your rod up against that tree."

He was already half-way back to the penstock and caught up his rod, but no fish had attacked it this time, and we stood side by side once more, leaning against the post, watching his float, as he tried first in one place, then in another, without success.

"We shall have to give it up and go," he said at last. "We must get back to tea. We'll give the carp to Polly Hopley, she likes fish, and the eel too."

"Look! a bite," I whispered, for I distinctly saw a slight quivering of the top of the float.

"No," he said despondently. "I did that, shaking the top of the rod.

I'm not so lucky as you. Yes, it is. Hooray!"

For the faint quiver was repeated, then there were one or two little bobs, then others, and at last the float began to dance slowly away toward the sh.o.r.e.

"He has got it, and is going to take it to his hole," whispered Mercer.

"But he don't go here to-night. He's going into the frying-pan, I think. Hah! Got him!"

For he now struck sharply, and the rod bent tremendously. There was no steady, motionless pull here, but a fierce shaking of the head and a hard, vibratory tugging at the line.

"Bigger than yours," he cried. "A thumper! My, how he pulls! Ah, would you? No, you don't, my fine fellow. He wants to get to the bank, I suppose, but he's coming out here into deep water, where there's nothing to twist about, and he's not going ash.o.r.e till I go first."

Just then the eel made a rush first in one direction, then in another, but with a heavy pressure kept up, and the rod bending nearly double.

Then it made a rush for the sh.o.r.e, and Mercer raised the point of his rod and stepped back, while I uttered a cry, for the rod had struck me sharply on the ear.

But it was not at the blow, but at the tremendous splash, for, forgetful in his excitement of where he stood, Mercer's step was off the narrow penstock right into the deep water, and as I clung to the post with one hand, I was looking down into the huge bubbling ring he had made, to see first the rod come up, then Mercer's hand, and then his face, close to his floating cap, but quite a dozen feet away from where I stood.

I was too much startled to move for a few moments, while Mercer beat the water with his hands frantically for a bit, and then went under again, but rose and called to me hoa.r.s.ely,--

"Help!"

"Swim!" I shouted. "Swim!" But he only gazed at me wildly, and I saw him go down again.

For an instant or two I stood as if turned to stone, then a thought struck me, and I ran along the woodwork to where I had left my rod, and, without thinking of the danger and the narrowness of the path, I ran back again in time to see Mercer rise again, beating the water frantically.

"Here, quick!" I shouted. "Catch hold;" and I held out the thin bamboo pole to him, but it did not reach within a couple of yards of where he was beating the water.

But it had its effect upon him. It was a chance for life, and in a curious laboured way he struck out now to swim, but came on very slowly, being hampered in some way by his own rod.

"Oh, try, try, try!" I shouted, and I saw him set his teeth and swim on desperately till one hand closed upon the thin bamboo, and then the other caught hold.

"Tight! Hold tight," I shouted, and, dropping on my knees, I began to draw the rod through my hands slowly, as if it was a rope, my eyes feeling as if they were starting as I saw his wild pallid face and set teeth, for I was in momentary dread that he would let go.

It seemed long enough before I had drawn him within reach and s.n.a.t.c.hed at one of his wrists, then at the other, drawing myself back so as to get him closer. Then I got tight hold of his jacket collar, and, as I did so, my knees glided away from me back over the other side of the penstock, and a curious sickening sensation came over me. The water and Mercer's white face were blurred and swimming before me, and I was fast losing consciousness, but the faintness was not much more than momentary, and the sickening sensation began to wear away as rapidly as it came, as I fully realised the fact that I was half off the little platform, with my legs in the water, but holding my companion all the time with a desperate clutch, while he clung as tightly to my wrists.

Then I tried to speak, but at first no words came, and it was all like some terrible dream.

At last, though, the power of utterance came, and I cried loudly, in a voice which did not seem like mine,--

"I've got you safe. Now climb out."

He did not move, only gazed wildly in my eyes till he seemed to irritate me.

"Do you hear, you coward?" I half screamed; "climb out on to here. Do you want me to fall right in?"

Still he did not reply, and I shouted at him again in my despairing rage, for a curious sensation of weakness crept through me, and the horrible thought came that sooner or later I must let him go.

"Do you hear? Don't play the fool. Climb out."

"Can't," he said in a husky whisper. "I tried--hard."

"Try again."

In obedience to my fierce order, he made an effort, splashing the water a little, but ceased directly, and gazed at me wildly still.

"Can't. Line--round my legs."

His words sent a flash of light through me, for they explained his miserable attempts to swim, and I realised that the stout silk line had been twisted about him by the eel in its efforts to escape.

"Try again," I said in a voice as husky as his own. "_You must_."

He struggled feebly, but gave up at once.

"I can't," he groaned. "No strength."

The poor fellow seemed paralysed, save that I could feel his hands grasping me with a clutch that did not relax for a moment, as I lay there on my chest, thinking what I must do. It was evident that I should get no help from him: for the shock of the accident, and his discovery that he was fast bound and helpless, had completely unnerved him, and it was plain to me that before long his desperate clutch would relax, and, when I could hold him no longer, he would sink back and drown before my eyes.

I looked despairingly round, but only to see deep water, and the bank so near and yet so far, for it was out of reach.