All at once the old sailor indulged in a burst of chuckles.

"Hear something, Bill?" said Nic.

"No, my lad, not yet; I was on'y thinking. They was going to bring a cart up the road yonder, waren't they?"

"Yes; one of the men said so," replied Nic.

"Well, we're a-going to give 'em something to take back in that cart to-night, my lad," whispered the man, with another chuckle; "and it won't be fish, nor it won't be fowl. My fingers is a-tingling so that I thought something was the matter, and I tried to change my stick from my right hand into my left."

"Well, what of that?" said Nic contemptuously; "it was only pins and needles."

"Nay, Master Nic, it waren't that. I've been a sailor in the king's ships and have had it before. It was the fighting-stuff running down to the very tips of my fingers, and they wouldn't let go."

"Hush! don't talk now," whispered Nic; "there may be one or two of the enemy yonder."

"Nay, it's a bit too soon for 'em, sir; but it'll be as well to keep quiet."

The narrow paths of the tangled wilderness at the back of the pool were so well known to all present that their young leader had no difficulty in getting them stationed by twos and threes well down the sides of the gorge on shelves and ledges where the bushes and ferns grew thickly, from whence, when the poachers were well at work, it would be easy to spring down into the water and make the attack. For the flood had so far subsided now that the worst hole was not above five feet deep, and the greater part about three, with a fairly even bottom of ground-down rock smoothed by the pebbles washed over it in flood-time.

Here it was that the salmon for the most part congregated, the new-comers from the sea taking naturally to the haunts of their forerunners from time immemorial, so that poacher or honest fisher pretty well knew where he would be most successful.

Nic chose a central spot for himself and Solly, some four feet above the level of the black water, and after ranging his men to right and left he sat down to wait, with all silent and dark around, save for the murmur of the water and the gleaming of a star or two overhead, for besides this there was not a glint of light. Still, the place seemed to stand out before him. Exactly opposite, across the pool, was the narrow opening between the steep rocks on either side; and he knew without telling that as soon as the poachers began their work his father would send some of his active allies into the bed of the stream lower down, to advance upward, probably before the whistle was blown.

"And then the scoundrels will be in a regular trap before they know it,"

thought Nic, as he strained his ears to catch the sound of the sailors being stationed in their hiding-places; but all was still save the soft humming roar of the falling water plunging into the pool.

An hour pa.s.sed very slowly, and Nic's cramped position began to affect him with the tingling sensation known as pins and needles; this he did not attribute to the movement of his nerve-currents eager to reach his toes and fill him with a desire to kick his enemies, but quietly changed his position and waited, trembling with excitement, and longing now to get the matter over, fully satisfied as he was that his friends were all in position and ready for the fray.

At last!

There was a sharp crack, as if someone had trodden upon a piece of dead-wood away up to the right. Then another crack and a rustling, and an evident disregard of caution.

"Come along, my lads," said a low, harsh voice; and then there was a splash, as if a man had lowered himself into the water. "They had enough of it last time, and won't come this, I'll wager. If they do, we're half as many again, and we'll give 'em such a drubbing as'll stop 'em for long enough."

"Needn't shout and holloa," said another voice from the side. "Keep quiet. We don't want to fight unless we're obliged."

"Oh no, of course not!" said the man with the harsh voice mockingly.

"If we do have to, my lads, two of you had better take Pete Burge home to his mother."

There was a low laugh at this, and Pete remained silent as far as making any retort was concerned, but directly after Nic felt a singular thrill run through him as the man said softly:

"Three of you get there to the mouth and drop the net across and hold it, for the fish will make a rush that way. Don't be afraid of the water. Shove the bottom line well round the stones, and keep your feet on it. A lot got away last time."

There was the sound of the water washing as men waded along the side of the great circular pool, and then the whishing of a net being dropped down and arranged.

"Ha, ha!" laughed a man; "there's one of 'em. Come back again' my legs.

He's in the net now. Can't get through."

"Now then," cried the harsh-voiced fellow; "open those lanthorns and get your links alight, so as we can see what we're about."

"Not zo much noise, Humpy Dee," said Pete sharply, as the light of three lanthorns which had been carried beneath sacks gleamed out over the water, and the light rapidly increased as dark figures could be seen lighting torches from the feeble candles and then waving their sticks of oak.u.m and pitch to make them blaze, so that others could also start the links they carried.

At first the light was feeble, and a good deal of black smoke arose, but soon after over a dozen torches were burning brightly, showing quite a little crowd of men, standing in the black water, armed with hooks and fish-spears, and each with a stout staff stuck in his belt.

The scene was weird and strange, the light reflected from the cliff-like sides of the pool seeming to be condensed upon the surface; and the faces of the marauders gleamed strangely above the flashing water, beginning to be agitated now by the startled salmon; while rising upward there was a gathering cloud of black, stifling smoke.

"Ready there with that net," cried Humpy Dee, a broad-shouldered, dwarfed man, whose head was deep down between his shoulders.

"Ay, ay!" came from the mouth of the pool.

"Less noise," cried Pete angrily. "Here, you, Jack Willick, and you, Nat Barrow, go up towards the house and give us word if anyone's coming, so as we may be ready."

"To run?" snarled Humpy Dee. "Stop where you are, lads. If the old squire meant to come with his gang he'd ha' been here afore now, and--"

_Phee-yew_!

The Captain's shrill silver whistle rang out loudly at this instant, and Nic and his men grasped their cudgels more tightly.

"Now for it, lads," he shouted, and he sprang from his ledge into the water and made at Humpy Dee.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A BLACK NIGHT.

Nic's cry was answered by a loud cheer from his men, which seemed to paralyse the enemy--some thirty strong, who stood staring, the torch-bearers holding their smoky lights on high--giving the party from the Point plenty of opportunity for picking their men, as they followed their leader's example and leaped into the pool. This caused a rush of the fish towards the lights for the most part, though many made for the gap to follow the stream, shooting against the net, which was held tightly in its place.

"There, go home, you set of ugly fools, before you're hurt," cried the deformed man, with a snarl like that of a wild beast. "What! You will have it? Come on, then. Hi, there! hold the links higher, and let us see their thick heads. Give it to 'em hard."

Emboldened by old successes, two wings of the gang whipped out their sticks and took a step or two forward, to stand firm on either side of the deformed man, who was a step in front. The next minute the fray had commenced, Nic leading off with a tremendous cut from his left at Humpy Dee's head.

For the young man's blood was up; he was the captain of the little party, and he knew that everything depended upon him. If he fought well they would stand by him to a man, as they had shown before. If, on the other hand, he seemed timid and careful, they would show a disposition to act on the defensive. That would not do now, as Nic well knew. His object was to make a brave charge and stagger the enemy, so that they might become the easier victims to panic when they found that they were attacked by a strong party in the rear.

_Crack_! went Nic's stout stick, as he struck with all his might; and _crick_, _crick_, _crack_, _crash_! went a score or more, mingled with shouts of defiance.

But Nic's cudgel did not give forth its sharp sound from contact with the leader's head, for he had to do with a clever cudgel-player as well as one who had often proved his power as a tricky wrestler in contests with the best men of the neighbouring farthest west county. Nic's blow was cleverly caught on as stout a cudgel, and the next moment his left arm fell numb to his side.

He struck savagely now, making up for want of skill by the rain of blows he dealt at his adversary, and thus saved himself from being beaten down into the water at once.

But it was all in vain.

On the other hand, though his men did better, being more equally matched they did not cause the panic Nic had hoped for, and the enemy kept their ground; while the torches spluttered, blazed, and smoked, and to the spectators the amphitheatre during those few brief moments looked wild and strange as some feverish dream.

But, as before said, Nic's brave efforts were all in vain. His muscles were too soft and green, and he was, in addition to being young, no adept in the handling of a stick. He fought bravely, but he had not the strength to keep it up against this short, iron-muscled, skilful foe.

He was aware of it only too soon, for his guard was beaten down, and he saw stars and flashes of light as he received a sharp blow from his adversary's stick. Then he felt himself caught by the throat, and by the light of one of the torches he saw the man's cudgel in the act of falling once more for a blow which he could only weakly parry, when another cudgel flashed by, there was a crack just over his head, and Humpy Dee uttered a yell of rage.

"You coward!" he roared. "Take that!" and quick as a flash Nic made out that he struck at some one else, and attributed the side-blow in his defence to Solly, who was, he believed, close by.