And all the while there was Dick with a red face, and his hat stuck right at the back of his head, tugging away at his oar, and smiling at all Josh said. "I must try and be as brave as Dick is," Arthur said to himself; and forcing his teeth firmly together, he began to plan in his own mind what he would do if Dick caught a conger. He would have his penknife ready in his hand, and pretend to help pull in the line; and while he was doing this he would cut it and the monster would swim away. "Don't you be scared about the congers, Master Taffarthur, sir," said Josh kindly. "They be gashly ugly things to tackle sometimes, but--" "I'm not afraid," said Arthur indignantly. "Not you, sir. Why should you be?" said Josh. "We can manage them. A big one has a nasty way of his own of getting loose in the boat and wriggling himself all about under the thwarts--" Arthur involuntarily began to draw up his legs, as he felt as if one were already loose in the bottom of the boat. "But just you look ye here," continued Josh, opening the little locker in the stern of the boat. "This is how I serves the big jockeys who'd be likely to give any trouble. I just give them a cut behind the head with this little fellow, and then they lie quiet enough." As he spoke he showed Arthur a little axe with a very small head, and an edge as keen as a knife. "That's too much for congers," added Josh. "I say, how cruel to the poor things!" said Dick laughingly; but Josh took it in the most serious way. "Well, I have thought that 'bout the gashly conger, Master Dick, sir," said Josh; "but I don't know as it be. You see, they're caught, and it puts 'em out of their misery, like, at once." "But it's cruel to catch them," said Dick. Josh scratched his head. "A mussy me, Master Dick, sir! that's a thing as has puzzled me lots o' times when I've been hooking and killing fish; but then, you see, it's for victuals, and everybody's got to live." "So have the fish," laughed Dick. "So they have, sir; but you see here, I catches and kills a conger, or a pollack, or a gurnet, or a bass. Suppose I hadn't killed it--what then?" "Why, it would be swimming about in the sea as happy as could be." "Yes, Master Dick, sir; but what else would it be doing?" "Basking in the sunshine, Josh." "P'r'aps so, sir; but, a mussy me! he'd be chasing and hunting and eating hundreds of little fish every day; so you see if I catches one big one, I saves hundreds of little ones' lives." "I never thought of that," said Dick. "Josh and I have often talked about it," said Will seriously. "It seems cruel to catch and kill things; but they are always catching and killing others, and every bird and fish you see here is as cruel as can be. There goes a cormorant; he'll be swimming and diving all day long catching fish, so will the shags; and all those beautiful grey-and-white gulls you can see on the rock there, live upon the fish they catch on the surface of the water."