He held up one of the hooks at the end of the conger-line and showed the boy that not only was it very large, and tied on strong cord with a swivel or two, but it was bound from the shank some distance up the line with brass wire. "Yes, I can see it," said Arthur, "of course. Isn't it too big? A fish would not take a great awkward thing like that in its mouth." "Won't it?" said Josh laughing. "But it will if you put a pilchar' on it. That there wire as is run round the line is to keep the congers from biting it in two." "Oh! but, Josh, a conger wouldn't bite through a line like that, would he?" cried Dick as he tugged at his oar. "Just as easy, sir, as you would through a bit o' cotton after you'd sewed a button on your shirt." "Why, they must be regular nippers!" cried Dick. "Nippers, sir? Why, they go at a big dead fish if it's lying in the water, take a good mouthful, and then set their long bodies and tails to work, and spin round and round like a gimlet or a ship augur, and bore the piece right out." "Oh! I say, Josh, don't you know! He's making that story up, isn't he, Will?" "No," said Will seriously; "it is quite true. Congers have a way of spinning themselves round like that. Don't you see those swivels on the line?" "Yes," said Dick, "I see 'em." "That's because the congers spin round so. If we did not use swivels they'd twist the line all in a tangle before you could get them out." "Why, they're regular sea-serpents," said Dick. "Well, no," said Josh; "they ain't so big as sea-sarpents, because they say they're hundreds o' yards long. I never see one, but I've heerd say so; but congers will bite and no mistake. I had one ketch me by the boot once, and he bit right through the leather." All this while they were rowing farther and farther from the shore, on about as lovely an evening as it was possible to imagine, and the warm glow of the sunshine prevented Arthur's face from looking ghastly white. He felt that he must beg of them to turn back directly--that he dared not go farther; and yet there was a greater fear still to keep him silent. If he begged of them to row back they would laugh at him for a coward, and he could not bear this. "Fishing!" he thought; why, it was like going to attack some horrible pack of sea-monsters in their rocky fastnesses; and instead of being dressed in flannels, he felt that he ought to be clothed in complete armour. Why, if a conger could bite through a line, what would he think of flannel trousers? And if one got tight hold of his flesh, what would be the consequences? Arthur sat there with his mouth dry and his eyes staring as, in imagination, he saw one of the great slimy creatures twisting itself round and round, and cutting a great piece out of one of his legs; and it was all he could do to keep from shuddering with fear.