As he spoke the course of the smack was altered, and the side that had been so low down that at times it was almost possible to touch the water was high up and the other lower down, and the smack rushed through the water, as it seemed, faster than ever. "She can sail, can't she, young gentlemen?" said the master. "We call her the _Foam_, and she can make foam too. Well, are you ready for the haul?" "Yes. Are you going to begin?" cried Dick excitedly. "Soon, my lad, soon," said the master. "Have you got a basket?" Dick shook his head. "Oh! you'll want a basket, and you must have a bucket of water. There'll be lots of things you'll like to look at that we should pitch overboard again." "You lend me a basket and a bucket then," said Dick; "you shall have them back." "Right, my lad. You tell young Will there to get you what you want. We shall have the trawl aboard soon." It seemed to Dick almost an age, but at last the master turned his brown, good-humoured face to him and gave him a nod. At the same moment he shouted a few short orders, and Dick rushed to take a pull at the rope as he saw Josh and Will stand by. "No, no, my lad; you and your brother look on," cried the master good-temperedly. Dick drew back and glanced at Arthur, whose face was as eager as his own. In fact, a great deal of his London indifference had disappeared of late, and the boy had been growing as natural as his brother. It was a time of intense excitement though for them, and as they watched they saw a windlass turn, and up came the great trawl-irons and the beam, then, dripping and sparkling in the sun, the foot-rope of the trawl-net, and foot after foot emerged with nothing but dripping water. "Why, they haven't caught a fish," cried Dick in a disappointed tone of voice. "You wait till the bunt's aboard," growled Josh just then; and the bunt, as the tassel end of the great net night-cap was called, was hauled on board dripping, and containing something splashing, flapping, and full of life. "There's something for you to look at, my lads," cried the bluff master smiling. "Let out that draw string, Josh." The whole of the net was now on the deck, the water streaming from it out at the side; and after Josh had unfastened the string which laced up the small end or bunt, the little crew took hold of the net above the pockets, and by giving it a series of shakes sent the whole of its contents out upon the deck. The net was then drawn away, the bunt fastened up, the end thrown over, and the trawl-beam took all down to scrape once more over the sands and scoop-out the soles and other flat-fish that are so fond of scuffling themselves down in the soft oozy sand, flapping their side-fins about till they are half covered, and very often letting the trawl-rope pass right over their backs. A good many had, however, failed to be successful this time, for there was a great patch of the deck covered with the contents of the net.