These are a specimen or two of the thoughts that ran through Arthur Temple's brains as he clung desperately to the line with the conger or whatever it was at the end tugging and jerking at it hard enough to make the boy's shoulders sore.

"Steady! steady!" cried Josh, interfering. "That's not the way to ketch conger. Give him line, as I showed you afore. There, you see," he continued, as Arthur slackened the cord. "Eh, 'ullo! Why, what's up?"

he exclaimed. "Here, give me hold."

Arthur pa.s.sed the line to him with a sigh of intense relief, and Josh gave way, hauled, and tried three or four different little plans before pa.s.sing the line back to Arthur.

"Here, you ketch hold," he cried. "It's a big one and no mistake. He has got his tail twisted round a bit of rock, or he's half in a hole, or something. Don't let him shake you like that, my lad, but give him line when he s.n.a.t.c.hes you. He's half in a hole as sure as can be, and if we hauled we should only break the line."

"What are we to do?" said Arthur, his words coming in pants. "Shall we leave the line and go?"

"Leave the line, my lad!" cried Josh. "Well, that arn't very likely.

No, no: lines are too vallerble, and instead of giving the conger the line, we'll get him aboard."

"But how? It won't come," said Arthur peevishly.

"You must coax him same as I showed you before. Fishers wants patience--waiting for what they catches, undoing tangles in nets and lines, and dealing with conger. Don't you see, my lad, if you haul so does the conger: he's frightened, and he fights for his life; but as soon as you leave off hauling, so does he, and begins to uncurve and untwist himself. Then's your time to haul him out of the rocks, before he has time to anchor himself again."

It seemed to Arthur as if he had no power to disobey Josh. Shame, too, supported the fisherman, for the boy had a horror of being supposed a coward, so he acted precisely as Josh told him, giving and taking with the line, but for some time without avail, and Arthur piteously asked if it was of any use to go on.

"Use! I should think so," cried Josh. "Why, he's a big one, and we've got to ketch him. Now haul, my lad, steady."

Arthur obeyed, and the violent jerking of the line began just as if the great eel were making s.n.a.t.c.hes at it.

"Now, give way, quick and sharp," cried Josh.

The boy did so, letting the line run over the side.

"I told you so," cried Josh, as it ran faster and faster. "He's going away now. He's left his hole. Now lay hold, and get him to the top quick as you can. He'll come up now."

Josh was right, for the eel had left the rocks, intending to swim away, and when it felt the line once more it began to struggle, but on the tension being eased it swam upwards. And so on again and again, till the pale under parts of the great fish could be seen below the surface, which was swirling and eddying with the strong motions of the muscular tail.

"He is a big one," cried Josh. "Got yours in, lads?"

"Yes," cried Will.

"Give us room then," cried Josh. "Hold on tight, youngster. No, no, Will: we can do him ourselves."

For Will had changed his position to take the line from Arthur, who felt as if he should have liked to kick the fisherman for interfering at such a time.

Acting like a machine in Josh's hands, Arthur slackened and hauled, and hauled and slackened, until the great eel was right at the surface, and Josh leaning over the gunwale, waiting his opportunity to hook it with the great gaff; but though he made two or three attempts Arthur was so helpless that he rather hindered than aided the capture. At last, though, by a clever stroke Josh hooked the monster, and stretched out his hand for his little axe.

As he did so there was a tremendous beating and splashing of the water, and the eel literally twisted itself into a knot upon the gaff, forming a great writhing bunch upon the shaft, and mingling line and self about the hook in the most confusing manner.

Arthur had behaved as well as he could, but this was too much for him.

Dropping the line, he let himself fall backwards over the seat, scrambled forward on hands and knees, rose up, and was getting into the narrow portion of the boat in the bows, when he stepped upon something slippery and fell right upon a living eel, the one d.i.c.k had just captured.

"Oh, oh!" yelled Arthur, starting up and bounding back amidships, to fall once more, with his hands upon the huge slimy knot that Josh had just dragged on board.

"A mussy me!" groaned Josh, as he vainly tried to get a stroke at the great eel's head with the axe. "Here, look alive, Will, lad; give him the bat." d.i.c.k followed his brother's example and got as far out of the way as he could, while quite an exciting fight went on, if fight it can be called where the offence comes entirely from one side, and the other is winding in and out among legs and seats, fishing-lines and baskets, trying to get away. It was so dark that it was next to impossible to see where the monster was; and though Will struck at it fiercely with the bat, he more often struck the boat than the fish.

Josh, too, made some cuts at it with the axe, but he only missed, and he was afraid to do more for fear he should drive the weapon through the bottom of the boat.

"She's free o' the line now," cried Josh, who was not aware that one chop he had given had divided the stout cord. "Let her go now, Will, lad. She won't get out of the boat."

"All right!" said Will coolly; and Arthur uttered a groan; but just then, to his great relief, d.i.c.k spoke out.

"What! are you going to leave that thing crawling about in the boat while we go home?" he said.

"Ay, my lad; she won't hurt."

"Thankye," said d.i.c.k. "I'm going overboard then to be towed."

"Hor--hor--hor!" laughed Josh. "Well, all right, my lad, we'll light the lanthorn, and then p'r'aps I can get a cut at her. Where's the matches, Will? Hallo!"

For just then there was a tremendous scuffling in the fore part of the boat, as the great eel forced itself amongst the spare rope and odds and ends of the fishing gear. Then there was a faint gleam seen for a moment on the gunwale, and a splash, and then silence.

"Why, she's gone," cried Josh.

"What! Over the side?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Ay, lad, sure enough; and the biggest one we took to-night, and my best conger-hook in her mouth."

Arthur uttered a sigh of relief that was almost a sob, and sitting down very quietly he listened to the talking of his three companions, as the anchor and killick were got up, and the boat was rowed across the starry bay, to reach the landing-place about half an hour before the expected time, Mr Temple being in waiting, and pacing to and fro upon the pier.

"Caught any?" he said.

"Yes, father, lots, but the big one got away," cried d.i.c.k.

"How did you get on, Arthur?" said Mr Temple. "Were you very much alarmed?"

Arthur would have honestly said, "Yes;" but before he could speak, Josh exclaimed:

"'Haved hisself like a trump, sir. Him and me got all the big uns; and it's no joke ketching your first conger, as p'r'aps you know."

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A CORNISH GALE; AND d.i.c.k TEMPLE TAKES HIS FIRST LESSON IN WIND.

It can rain in Cornwall, and when it does rain it rains with all its might. The same remark applies to the wind, which blows with all its might sometimes from the west and south-west.

A few days had elapsed since the conger-fishing trip, and it had been arranged with Uncle Abram, who had expressed himself as being highly honoured by a visit from Mr Temple that Josh and Will should be ready with the boat for a long row to three or four of the old mine-shafts and creeks of the bay, where Mr Temple intended making a few investigations, and taking specimens of the different ores.

But when d.i.c.k rose, as he thought at daybreak, he found that it was half-past seven, that the rain was streaming down, and that the wind kept striking the side of the house, as it came from over the great Atlantic, with a noise like thunder.

He opened the window, but was glad to shut it again, for the wind s.n.a.t.c.hed it, as it were, from his hand, to send it with a bang against the wall of the house. So shutting it close once more, and giving one of the panes a rub with the towel, he put his nose against it and looked out at the bay.

"Oh, how jolly miserable!" he exclaimed. "Here, Taff, hi! Wake up."