"Yes; capital. Fish like to take a bait that seems to be trying to escape from them." "Then why don't they do it?" said the doctor impatiently. "Give them time," said the mate, smiling. "Time and line too, but they don't seem to notice the bait." "They notice mine," said Jack. "Look here." He gave a snatch with his line, Edward sitting ready to unhook the fish, and as he drew the bait along toward him, there was a rush made while it passed, but whether in pursuit or to escape from the novel object the occupants of the boat could not make out for some time. At last, though, the mate came to the conclusion that the spoon-bait scared the shoal. "That shows what a set of ignorant savages they are, Jack," cried the doctor; "never saw a spoon-bait before in their lives, and don't know it's meant to catch them. But never mind, we shall have one directly, and then the others will know better." "And go right away," said Jack dryly, as he kept on taking advantage of the mate's instructions, and making his bait play about in the bright water in a way which ought to have tempted a run, but without effect. "Let's try another kind," said the mate, and the line being drawn in, an artificial sand-eel was fastened by the stout twisted wire hook to the swivel on the line. "I'll wait and see what luck you have, Jack, before I change mine," said the doctor. "I don't think I shall have any," replied the lad. "The fish may be stupid and ignorant, but I don't think they will be so stupid as to try and bite at the absurd thing I have on now." "There's no accounting for what fish will do," said the mate, smiling. "That's right; let it go. I've caught mackerel often enough on the Cornish coast with a hook at the end of a piece of gut run through a broken scrap of clay tobacco-pipe." "Yes, mackerel are splendid fellows to bite. I've caught them myself with a soft white goose feather tied on to a hook, and thrown as if it were a fly, and--" "Oh!" cried Jack, with a cry of excitement, "I've got one," and Edward half rose in his excitement from his seat. For as he let the line run gently through his fingers from where it lay in rings at the bottom of the boat, it was suddenly snatched away and began to run rapidly. "Stop it! Catch hold quickly," cried the mate; and Jack seized the line again and held on. "I've got it!" he cried, as he felt thrill after thrill run up his arms in the fish's struggles to escape. "Haul him in, Jack," said the doctor. "Bravo! first one to you. We shall begin to take some now." "It won't come," cried Jack, as he held on by the line, with the fish evidently diving down into deep water in its frantic efforts to escape. "Pull, lad!" "But it's a monster, and the line cuts my hand. No, no, not you," he cried to his man. "Let me try," said the mate. "No, no, I mean to catch it myself," said Jack excitedly. "Ah, don't touch it."