Poole turned away and knelt upon the deck, laughing to himself the while, as he thought that if a big fish were hooked the invalid would soon find out the difference. And then the boy's fingers moved pretty quickly as he took out his junk-knife and cut a long narrow strip from the piece of fatty pork-rind with which the cook had supplied him. Through one end of this he passed the point of the hook, and then brought it back to the same side by which it had entered, so that a strip about six inches long and one wide hung down from the barbed hook. The next process was to unwind twenty or thirty yards of the line with its leaden sinker, and then drop lead and bait overboard, running out the line till the bait was left about fifty yards astern, but not to sink far, for there was wind enough to carry the schooner along at a pretty good pace, trailing the bait twirling round and round behind, and bearing no small resemblance to a small, quickly-swimming fish, the white side of the bait alternating with the dull grey of the rind, and giving it a further appearance of life and movement. "There you are," said Poole, passing the line into the midshipman's hands. "I will unwind some more, have fished like this before, haven't you?" "Only a little for whiting and codlings," was the reply. "I never got hold of anything big. I suppose we may get a tidy one here?" "Oh yes; and they are tremendously strong." "Not so strong but what I can hold them, I dare say," said Fitz confidently. But his confidence was not shared by his companion, who unwound the line till there was no more upon the frame, and then gave the end two or three turns about one of the belaying-pins, leaving a good many rings of loose line upon deck. There was need for the foresight, as was soon proved. Fitz was sitting leaning right back with his eyes half-closed, thoroughly enjoying the change; the trouble of the morning was for the moment numbed, and no care assailed him. He was listening as he enjoyed the sensation that thrilled the nerves of his arm as the bait and lead sinker were drawn through the water far astern with a peculiar jigging motion, and questioning Poole about the kind of fish that they were likely to encounter as far south as they then were. "You have been across here, then, before?" he said. "Oh yes; four times." "Ever seen any sharks?" "Lots; but not out here. I saw most close in shore among the islands." "What islands?" "Oh, any of them; Saint Lucia, Nevis, Trinidad. Pretty big too, some of them." "Ever catch one?" "No, we never tried. Nasty brutes! I hate them." "So does everybody, I suppose. But, I say, think we shall catch anything to-day?" "Oh yes; but you mustn't be disappointed if we don't. Fish swarm one day, and you can see as many as you like; another time--you go all day long and you don't see one." "I say, this isn't going to be one of those days, is it? I haven't had a bite yet. Think the bait's off?"