"Frank would give up anything for sailing," said d.i.c.k laughing, as he put away his tackle.

I forget how many fish they really got that day, but I know that both number and weight were very great indeed.

They took up the jars and bottles the next morning when the water was clear and still, and released the prisoners which had done them such good service.

It was worth while preserving a memento of a four-pound perch, and as it was a pity to spoil it for eating by skinning, it was resolved to make a plaster-cast of it, and this was done in the following manner:--

They bought some plaster-of-paris and mixed it with water until it became a thin paste. This they poured into a box, and when it began to set they laid the fish on its side in it, so that exactly one half of it was covered by the plaster. The fish had first been well oiled, so that the scales should not adhere to the mould. When the plaster was set and hard the fish was taken carefully out. Several holes about an inch deep were then bored in the plaster round the imprint of the fish. The plaster-cast was then well oiled, the fish laid in it, and more plaster poured in, until the fish was covered. When this in its turn had become hard it was taken off, and both sides of the fish were now represented in the mould. The holes which had been bored in the first mould, now had corresponding projections in the second mould. This was to insure accuracy of fit when the pieces were put together for the final cast. A hole was then bored through one side of the mould. The interior of it was well oiled, the pieces fitted together, and liquid plaster poured in through the hole. In a couple of hours the moulds were separated, and a perfect cast of the fish was the result. This Mary painted in water-colour to imitate the natural fish, and the final result was very creditable to all concerned.

While upon the subject of plaster casts, I must mention an occupation which the boys resorted to in the winter-time. Their collection of birds' eggs was almost as perfect as they could hope to make it for many years to come, but at Frank's suggestion they added to it, for additional perfection, a representation of the egg of every British bird. They made these eggs of plaster and coloured them very carefully, and varnished them with white of egg. These artificial eggs could not have been distinguished from real ones as they lay in the cabinet, but each egg was marked with a label, signifying that it was only a model. I recommend this plan to all students of ornithology.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

Eel-fishing.--Setting the Nets.--Elvers.--The Merivale Float.

One autumn day, when the ground was red with fallen leaves and the landscape was sodden with wet, the boys were busy in the boat-house with some of their numerous occupations, when the conversation turned upon eels and eel-fishing,--how that eels bred in the sea, and in the spring myriads of tiny eels came up the rivers; when the river was wide, ascending it in two columns, one by each bank, so thick together that you might scoop them out in bucketfuls,--and how, when they met with any obstruction, such as a weir or flood-gate, they will wriggle themselves over it; and it often happens that where it is dry they stick fast to it, and their companions make their way over them, and leave them to perish. In the autumn, too, the eels migrate to the sea in vast numbers, and are caught by means of nets placed across the river. Jimmy said,--

"I say, Frank, do you remember all those eel-nets we saw by Horning?

They will be in full work now. I vote we sail down next Friday night and see them in operation."

"Very well," said Frank, "I don't think we could do better. We will get a half-holiday on Friday, so as to be there in good time."

Friday was wet and stormy, and the boys consulted as to the advisability of going. Frank said,--

"Let us go, as we have fixed to go. It may clear up, and if it does not, it doesn't much matter. We are used to getting wet, and it won't hurt us."

The others agreed; so taking in all the reefs in their sails, they started across the broad, while the wind howled, and the rain beat with blinding force against their faces. The sky was murky with driving ma.s.ses of black cloud, and the lake was lashed into angry waves.

"This is a nice sort of day for a pleasure excursion," said d.i.c.k, as he placed his hat more firmly upon his head and turned his back to the wind.

"Yes," said Frank. "Do you go into the cabin. I can manage the tiller and mizen, and Jimmy will take his turn at the main-sheet, and then you can have a spell by and by."

"Oh no, I am not going to shirk it," replied d.i.c.k.

They struggled across the broad, and into the Hundred Stream, and before very long they reached its junction with the Bure, and brought up under the lee of a sort of rough cabin which was built there. There was a bare spot among the reeds and there, upon a wooden framework, hung the eel-nets, which two or three men were busy putting in order. When the yacht was made snug, Frank went up to them and said,--

"We have come, hoping you will let us see how the eel-nets are worked; but I am afraid we have chosen a very bad night."

"No, you have come the very best night you could have picked, sir,"

answered one of the men. "There is no moon, and the water is rising. The eels always run more freely when the night is dark and stormy."

"Oh, then we are in luck's way after all," said Frank to his companions.

"We shall be setting the nets directly, sir, and you had better come with us in your punt."

"All right, we will."

The eel-nets were like huge bags, large at one end, and narrowing rapidly. The mesh at the large end was about two inches in diameter, but it quickly lessened until it was so small that a minnow could not have got through it. The mouth of the net was made sufficiently wide to stretch across the river, and, in order to keep the body of it distended, wooden hoops were placed at intervals down it. To each hoop inside the net was attached an inner circle of net, which narrowed to a small opening, like the principle on which some mouse-traps are constructed, so that the eels having pa.s.sed through the narrow inlet could not find the way back again. The end portion of the net, comprising the last four hoops, is made in a separate piece or pocket, and is only fastened to the net when it is fishing. The juncture is marked with a rope and buoy.

The men now fastened a heavy chain along one half of the lower side of the mouth of the net. This was the side which was to lie along the bottom of the river, and the chain was to keep it down. The net was now taken on board the boat, and the men rowed a little way down the river, followed by the crew of the _Swan_. The net was put out so that the base rested on the bottom. Heavy weights were fixed at the two bottom corners of the net, and the two top corners were tied to posts fixed by the side of the river. The men now sounded with a pole, to see that the chain lay across along the bottom. While they did so the boat heeled over so much that d.i.c.k said,--

"Another inch and the stream would be over the gunwale, and those fellows would be pitched into the net and drowned."

The net was now pulled out far down the river, and the pocket tied on, and then it was left to itself.

"Don't the wherries ever do any damage to the nets?" asked Jimmy.

"Sometimes, sir; but they know where they are set, and they takes care where they put their quants if they be quanting; and if they be sailing they pa.s.s over the nets without doing them any harm."

After this they set another net lower down, and then they returned to the hut, and, sitting by the peat fire, they had some hot tea, and waited for an hour, knowing that the eels were rushing down stream, and into the nets.

The wind howled dismally over the marshes, and the rain hissed on the water.

"It's lonesome work, sir," said one of the men to Frank, who had drawn nearer the fire with a shudder.

"Yes; does it pay?"

"Pretty well at times, sir. This is what we should call a very fine night for our work, as the eels run so much better than they do on a calm night. It will make some pounds difference to us."

"What do you do with the eels?"

"Some we sells at Norwich and Yarmouth, but the most part goes to London or Birmingham. The Black Country men are very fond of a nice rich eel; but come, sir, it is time to take up the first net now."

They went down the black river again, until they came to the buoy which marked the pocket, or "cod," as it is technically termed, of the net.

This was hauled up and detached from the rest of the net. It was very heavy and full of eels, which were wriggling about in a black slimy ma.s.s. They put the mouth of the cod over a basket which was smaller at the top than at the bottom, so that the eels could not crawl out, and poured them into it.

There were about thirty pounds weight of eels, the major part being about a pound weight each, but some were two or three pounds in weight.

The cod was then tied on to the net again and lowered, and the next net was visited in the same way, and found to contain about the same quant.i.ty of eels.

The nets were first laid about seven o'clock, and first taken up about eight, and at intervals of an hour through the night the nets were visited, and about the same quant.i.ty of eels taken from them each time.

This lasted up to half-past one o'clock, and then there was a great falling off.

"They have pretty well stopped coming down now, sir. We can leave the nets and go and have some sleep. The nets will hold all the eels which will get into them by the morning."

"Did you ever meet with any accident while eel-fishing?" asked d.i.c.k.

"I have only seen one, sir; but that was a bad one. It was the year before last, and my mate had had a drop too much, and he overbalanced himself and fell overboard into the net, and the stream carried him down it before I could catch hold of him. There was no one to help me, and before I could get the heavy net ash.o.r.e he was dead. It was a fearful thing, and I have thought of it many a time since. I used to be fond of a gla.s.s myself at that time, but I have never touched a drop since."

"Did you ever see the little eels coming up the river in the spring?"

asked Jimmy, to change the subject.

"Oh, you mean the elvers. Ay, and more's the pity! the people catch tons of them to feed the pigs with. If they would let them alone, they would be worth a good many pounds to some one in the autumn," answered the man.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EELS.]