"Let's get back quickly," said Mr Marston, "or the boy will catch cold."

"Oh, it won't hurt me!" cried Tom. "Let's catch the fish first. They never get cold."

"Yes: let's haul the net out first," said d.i.c.k. "Tom won't mind a ducking."

"Ay, we're going to hev out the net," said Dave. "Splash away, my lad.

That'll keep away the cold."

Poor Tom's feet had not been wet, but as he stood up with the water trickling from him, a couple of streams soon made their way down the legs of his trousers into his boots. This was, however, soon forgotten in the excitement of the hauling.

For, after a fresh amount of splashing, though Dave declared the fish had all come back, the punt was run pretty close up to one side, the lines and pole taken on board, and the punt thrust toward the other side.

Before they reached it the bobbing of the rush floats and the semicircular shape of the top line showed plainly enough that there were a good many fish there; and when Dave had secured the lines at the other end, removed the poles, and by ingenious manipulation drawn on the bottom line so as to raise the cord, it was not long before the net began to a.s.sume the shape of a huge bag, and one that was pretty heavy.

Every now and then a swirl in the water and a splash showed where some large fish was trying to escape, while sometimes one did leap out and get away. Then the surface would be necked with silvery arrows as swarms of small-fry appeared flashing into sight and disappearing, these little bits of excitement growing less frequent as the small fish found their way over the top of the net, or discovered that the meshes were wide enough to allow them to pa.s.s through.

"How is it, Dave, that all the little fish like to keep to the top of the water, and the big ones out of sight down at the bottom?" said d.i.c.k.

Dave chuckled, or rather made a noise something like a bray.

"S'pose you was a fish, young mester, wouldn't you, if you was a little one, keep nigh the top if you found going down to the bottom among the big uns meant being swallowed up?"

"Oh, of course!" cried d.i.c.k. "I forgot that they eat one another.

Look, Mr Marston, that was a pike."

He pointed excitedly to a large fish which rose to the surface, just showing its dark olive-green back as it curved over and disappeared again, making the water eddy.

"They do not seem to have all gone, Dave," said Mr Marston.

"Nay, theer's a few on 'em left, mester," replied Dave. "Now, my lads, all together. That's the way."

The lines were drawn, and the weight of the great bag of meshes proved that after all a good fair haul had been made, the net being drawn close to the boat and the bag seeming to shrink in size till there was a ma.s.s of struggling, splashing fish alongside, apparently enough to far more than fill a bushel basket.

"What are you going to do?" asked Mr Marston, who was as excited now as the boys, while Dave worked away stolidly, as if it was all one of the most commonplace matters for him.

"Haul the net into the boat," cried Tom.

"Nay, my net would break," said Dave. "There's a lot of owd rushes and roots, and rotten weeds in it."

"I don't believe there are, Dave," said d.i.c.k. "It's all solid fish."

"Nay, lad, but net'll break. Let's hev out some of the big uns first."

"Look! there's a fine one," cried d.i.c.k, making a dash at a large fish which rose out of the writhing ma.s.s, but it glided through his hands.

"Howd hard!" said Dave. "You lads go th'other side o' the punt or we shall capsize. Let me and the London gentleman get them in."

"Oh!" groaned Tom.

"No, I've only one hand to work with," said Marston, who saw the reasonableness of the old fen-man's remark, for the side of the boat had gone down very low once or twice, and the effect of dragging a portion of the laden net on board might have been sufficient to admit the water.

"I'll give way, and act as ballast."

"No, no!" cried d.i.c.k. "You help, Mr Marston."

But the young engineer remained steadfast to his proposal, and seated himself on the other side.

"Better let me lade out a few o' the big uns, Mester d.i.c.k," said Dave, "while you lads hold on."

The boys hardly approved of the proposal, but they gave way; and each taking a good grip of the wet net, they separated toward the head and stern, while Dave stayed in the middle, and taking off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves close to the shoulder, and then plunging his arms in among the swarm of fish he brought out a good-sized pike of six or seven pounds.

This was thrown into the basket, to flap furiously and nearly leap out, renewing its efforts as another of its kind was thrown in to keep it company.

"Is there a very big one, Dave?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Nay; nought very big," was the reply. "Draw her up, my lads. That's reight."

As Dave spoke he kept on plunging his hands into the splashing and struggling ma.s.s of fish, and sometimes brought out one, sometimes missed. But he kept on vigorously till, feeling satisfied that the net would bear the rest, he drew the loaded line well over into the boat, and, giving the boys a hint to tighten the line, he plunged in his arms once more, got well hold, and the next minute, by a dexterous lift, raised the bag, so that its contents came pouring over the edge of the punt in a silvery, glittering cataract of fish, leaping, gliding, and flapping all over the bottom about his feet.

Then a few fish, which were hanging by their gills, their heads being thrust through the meshes, were shaken out, the net bundled up together and thrown into the fore part of the boat, and the little party came together to gloat over their capture.

"Theer, lads," said Dave, coolly resuming his jacket, "you can pitch 'em all into the baskets, all the sizable ones, and put all the little ones back into the watter. I'll throost the punt back, so as young Tom Tallington can get some dry clothes."

These latter were the last things in Tom's mind, for just then, as Dave resumed the pole, and began sending the boat quickly through the water, the boy was trying to grasp an eel, which had found the meshes one size too small for his well-fed body, and was now in regular serpentine fashion trying to discover a retreat into which he could plunge, and so escape the inevitable frying-pan or pot.

Irrespective of the fact that a large eel can bite sharply, it is, as everyone knows, one of the most awkward things to hold, for the moment a good grip of its slimy body is made, the result seems to be that it helps the elongated fish to go forward or slip back. And this Tom found as he grasped the eel again and again, only for it to make a few muscular contortions and escape.

Then d.i.c.k tried, with no better effect, the pursuit lasting till the active fish made its way in among the meshes of the net, when its capture became easy, and it was swept into the great basket, to set the pike flapping and leaping once more.

Then the sorting commenced, all the small fish being thrown back to increase in size, while the rest of the slimy captives went into the basket.

There was no larger pike than the one first taken out of the net by Dave, but plenty of small ones, all extremely dark in colour, as if affected by living in the amber-tinted water, and nearly all these were thrown back, in company with dozens of silvery roach and orange-finned, brightly gilded rudd, all thicker and broader than their relatives the roach.

Many scores of fish were thrown overboard, some to turn up and float for a few minutes before they recovered their breath, as Tom called it, but for the most part they dived down at once, uninjured by what they had gone through, while their largeness fortunate friends were tossed into the basket--gilded side-striped perch, with now and then a fat-looking, small-eyed, small-scaled tench, brightly brazen at the sides, and looking as if cast in a soft kind of bronze. Then there were a couple of large-scaled brilliantly golden carp; but the majority of the fish were good-sized, broad, dingy-looking bream, whose slimy emanations made the bottom of the punt literally ask for a cleansing when the basket was nearly filled.

By that time the party were well on their way to the Toft, and as they neared the sh.o.r.e, it was to find the squire waiting to speak to the engineer, while John Warren was close behind with his dog, ready to join Dave, in whose company he went off after the latter had been up to the house and had a good feast of bread and cheese and ale.

That evening the squire and Mr Marston went over to the works to see how matters were progressing, to find all satisfactory, and the night pa.s.sed quietly enough; but at breakfast the next morning, when some of the best of the tench appeared fried in b.u.t.ter, a messenger came over to see the engineer on his way to the town for the doctor, to announce that Hez Bargle, the big delver, who had been leader of the party who came over so fiercely about the attack upon Mr Marston, had been found that morning lying in the rough hovel where he slept alone, nearly dead.

The man was sharply examined by the engineer, a fresh messenger in the shape of Hickathrift being found to carry on the demand for the doctor.

But there was very little to learn. Bargle had not come up to his work, and the foreman of the next gang went to see why his fellow-ganger had not joined him, and found him lying on the floor of the peat-built hut quite insensible, with the marks of savage blows about the head, as if he had been suddenly attacked and beaten with a club, for there was no sign of any struggle.

Mr Marston went over at once with the squire, d.i.c.k obtaining permission to accompany them; and upon their arrival it was to find all the work at a stand-still, the men being grouped about with their sleeves rolled-up, and smoking, and staring silently at the rough peat hovel where their fellow-worker lay.

The engineer entered the shelter--it did not deserve the t.i.tle of cottage--and the squire and d.i.c.k followed, to find the man nearly insensible, and quite unable to give any account of how the affair had happened.

The men were questioned, but knew nothing beyond the fact that they had parted from him as usual to go to their own quarters, Bargle being the only one who lodged alone. There had been no quarrel as far as Mr Marston could make out, everyone he spoke to declaring that the work had gone on the previous day in the smoothest way possible; and at last there seemed to be nothing to do but wait until the great, rough fellow could give an account of the case for himself.

The doctor came at last, and formed his opinion.