Next morning, about four bells, the sea being like a mirror,
unruffled by a breath of wind, we lowered and paddled off from
the ship about a mile. When far enough away, we commenced
operations by squeezing in the water some pieces of fish that had
been kept for the purpose until they were rather high-flavoured.
The exuding oil from this fish spread a thin film for some
distance around the boat, through which, as through a sheet of
glass, we could see a long way down. Minute specks of the bait
sank slowly through the limpid blue, but for at least an hour
there was no sign of life. I was beginning to fear that I should
be called to account for misleading all hands, when, to my
unbounded delight, an immense shoal of flying-fish came swimming
round the boat, eagerly picking up the savoury morsels. We
grasped our nets, and, leaning over the gunwale, placed them
silently in the water, pressing them downward and in towards the
boat at the same time. Our success was great and immediate. We
lifted the wanderers by scores, while I whispered imploringly,
"Be careful not to scare them; don't make a sound." All hands
entered into the spirit of the thing with great eagerness. As
for Mistah Jones, his delight was almost more than he could bear.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113