Fish swarmed
about us of many sorts, but principally of the "kauwhai," a kind
of mullet very plentiful about Auckland, and averaging five or
six pounds. Much to my annoyance, we had not been able to get
any bait, except a bit of raw salt-pork, which hardly any fish
but the shark tribe will look at. Had I known or thought of it,
a bit of goat would have been far more attractive.
However, as there was no help for it, we baited up and started.
"Nary nibble ermong 'em!" growled Sam, as we sat impatiently
waiting for a bite. When we hauled up to see what was wrong,
fish followed the hook up in hundreds, letting us know plainly as
possible that they only wanted something tasty. It was
outrageous, exasperating beyond measure! At last Samuela grew so
tired of it that he seized his harpoon, and hurled it into the
middle of a company of kauwhai that were calmly nosing around the
bows. By the merest chance he managed to impale one of them upon
the broad point. It was hardly in the boat before I had seized
it, scaled it, and cut it into neat little blocks. All hands
rebaited with it, and flung out again. The change was
astounding. Up they came, two at a time, dozens and dozens of
them kauwhai, cavalle, yellow-tail, schnapper--lovely fish of
delicious flavour and goodly size.
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