He found that he had under his arm a long pole like a fishing-rod, which was almost certainly his baton, and so he tied his handkerchief to the end of it, and began fishing for the Brigadier-General. It had got quite dark by now, and he could only just see a line of foam where the Brigadier-General was splashing about. Then there came a tug at his handkerchief, which bent his baton nearly double. ‘Oh, I got a bite then,’ said David excitedly. ‘So did I, your Grace,’ said the Brigadier-General. ‘The fishes are biting my toes something awful. But there are spurs on them, and I think I’ve caught a pike.’ David fished again with renewed vigour, for now there was a chance of catching a brigadier-general and a pike all at one go, which was very sumptuous fishing. ‘Look here,’ he called out, ‘if I catch you, and you’ve caught a pike, it’s me who’s caught the pike, isn’t it?’ ‘That’ll be settled by court-martial, your Grace,’ said the voice from the darkness. ‘Do put your baton a little lower.’ David felt very much inclined to say that he wouldn’t go on fishing for him at all, unless he (the Brigadier-General) promised that he (David) should be considered to have caught not only him (the Brigadier-General), but also that he (David) should be allowed to claim the capture of the pike which he (the Brigadier-General) said that he (the Brigadier-General) had caught. But it was so difficult to express all this in terse soldierly language, that he decided to catch the Brigadier-General first, and settle the rest of it afterwards. Besides, if the Brigadier-General sank, David would have caught neither, and could very likely be court-martialled himself. So he lowered the point of his baton, and soon got a better bite, and began towing him to land. ‘Shall I gaff him, your Grace,’ asked another officer, saluting David with both hands at once. ‘No, I’m going to catch him all by myself,’ said David, remembering how the footman had helped him to catch a pike once, and how it hadn’t been at all the same thing as having caught it unassisted. ‘Get back into barracks at once.’ David brought his Brigadier-General alongside, and caught hold of something slippery which wriggled. ‘That’s the pike,’ said a choking voice from the other end of the Brigadier-General. ‘Lend a hand, your Grace, to a drowning soldier.’ David kept tight hold of the pike with one hand, put his baton over his shoulder, and began walking up the bank. The Brigadier-General came up out of the water with a loud pop, just as if a cork had been drawn. ‘That’s the ginger-beer, your Grace,’ he said. ‘Is it? It was lemonade this morning,’ said David. ‘This is an awfully strong pike. Turn up the light, somebody.’ [Illustration: David rescues the Brigadier-General] ‘That’s all very well,’ said a discontented voice from the ranks. ‘But where is the blooming light? This is the darkest guard of honour I ever honoured.’