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Old Gold; or, The Cruise of the "Jason" Brig, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 21. A River Monster |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. A RIVER MONSTER The boat's way was checked, and every eye was now fixed upon the second mate as he prepared and threw out another artificial bait. At the same moment the sail was allowed to fill, and the boat glided on once more. "They don't get this line," said Lynton confidently, "for I'll hold it all the time. Let her go, Dan: take a pull on that sheet." The boat answered to the drag as if she had been a spirited horse resenting a touch at the curb rein, and away they went, with the water surging up towards the gunwale as she careened over. They had sailed on for a few minutes when a loud cry came from the mate. "Ahoy there! Oh, murder!" he yelled. "Throw her up in the wind, or I shall have my arms dragged out of their sockets." For just when least expected there was a tremendous jerk as some fish or reptile snatched at the flying bait, and Lynton was scarcely able to keep his hold of the line. "Let him run," cried Brace. "Give him plenty of line." For the moment the mate was too much taken by surprise to act, but, recovering himself while one of the men snatched up and loosened more line from the winder, he let out yard after yard of the stout cord, and, the boat's way being checked, it became possible to do something in the way of playing the seizer of the bait. "It pulls like a whale," panted the mate, as he endeavoured to control the line. "Never mind," said Briscoe; "give him time, and you'll tire him out." "If he don't tire me out. I say, it's a monster. It must be a big 'gator." "Never mind what it is," cried Brace excitedly: "catch him." "It's all very fine to talk," growled the mate, "but he'll have the skin off my hands if I stick to him, for it seems as if instead of me catching him he's caught me, and I expect he'll have me in the water soon." Briscoe, who was as excited as anyone, burst into a hearty laugh at this, and, laying down his gun, took up the short-handled gaff-hook which lay beneath the thwarts. "That won't be any good for this fellow," cried Lynton; "it's a great shark, I believe. Take the boathook." "No, no; it's too blunt," said Brace. "Look here, Lynton: you go on playing him." "Play! Do you call this play? My arms are being racked." "He must be getting exhausted now. He can't keep on at that very much longer." "Well, if he doesn't soon give way, I shall have to do so." "Wait a minute or two and then get the brute to the surface, and I'll put a charge of big shot through him." "No, no; he'll break away if you do that," cried the mate. "I want to get him aboard if I can manage it. I say: the tackle isn't too big and coarse, is it, Mr Brace?" "I didn't expect you were going to hook a thing like this at the first attempt. Give him some more line." "There's on'y 'bout a fathom more of it left, sir," cried the man who was casting the line off from the winder. "Let out half and then get a hold too, my lad," said Lynton. "Ay, ay, sir," answered the man. "This is rather too much of a good thing," said the mate. "Here, let the boat go with him; it'll ease the strain." "Why, he has been towing us for the last five minutes," said Briscoe. "Hi! hullo!" cried Brace. "Oh, what luck! Gone!" The men groaned, for the line, which had up till then been quite tense and kept on cutting through the water as the prisoner darted here and there in its wild efforts to escape, suddenly became slack, and, with an angry ejaculation, Lynton began to haul slowly in. "I knew it; I knew it," he said: "that tackle wasn't half strong enough." "But what bad luck!" cried Brace. "Never mind. Stick on another hook, Lynton. I say, that must have been an alligator. There couldn't be fish that size out here." "Pulled like a sea-cow," said Briscoe. "Cow! Went through the water like a steam launch," said Lynton. "Well, whatever it was, it has gone now, and we must hope for better luck next time," said Brace. They rested for a few minutes in silence; then Lynton turned to Brace and said: "Just put your hand in the locker over there, Mr Brace, and get out the largest spoon you can find. I'm afraid it won't be big enough, and I expect this beggar has got the swivels. I say, though, this is something like fishing. When we get back I'll rig up some tackle with the lead-line. Let the boat go again." The sail was allowed to fill, the boat careened over and began to glide away again before the wind, when suddenly the line tightened once more, and the mate yelled to the steersman and the sailor holding the sheet. "Ease her!" he roared; "the beggar only turned and came towards the boat. I've got him still, and he's as lively as ever." There was silence then, and for the next few minutes the battle went on, the fish or reptile towing the boat this way and that way in some of its fierce rushes. In spite of the hard work Lynton manfully refused to surrender the line, but let it run or hauled it in according to the necessities of the moment, till there was a cheer, started by Brace, for the captive's strength was plainly failing, and at the end of another five minutes it ceased its struggles, and yielded sullenly to the steady drag. Lynton pulled the line slowly in, whilst all the others watched with eager expectation for the first appearance of his captive. "It must be a monster," said Brace hoarsely. "Be careful now, Lynton. It would be horrible if the line were to break, and we were to lose him after all our efforts." "Monster? I believe he's as long as the boat; but he's pumped out now. I say, the water must be tremendously deep here. He must have dived right down to the bottom. It's a 'gator: there's no doubt about that." "We shall soon see," replied Briscoe, who stood ready with the gaff-hook. "I shall have to trust to this." "Yes. Drive it right into his throat, and haul him in over the side at once." "Right. I say: he's coming now. See him?" said Briscoe eagerly. "Quite plainly," said Brace. "The water's beautifully clear, but it's running so fast that everything below seems to be all of a quiver and it is not possible to make out the shape of anything." "Haul slowly and steadily," said Briscoe. "I wish this thing had a stronger handle." "It would only break if it had, with such a big fish," said Lynton, as he kept on hauling and letting the heavily-strained line fall between his legs. "Do you see him now?" "Yes, quite plainly." "'Gator, isn't it?" "No: a long, thin fish." "Not a snake?" "No, no: a fish. It looks five feet long at the least." "Must be ten," panted Lynton, with a groan, as he continued hauling on the line. "It feels as heavy as so much lead." "Now then, be careful," cried Brace, cocking his double gun. "No, no: don't shoot," cried Lynton, as he slowly hauled. "Shan't fire unless he breaks away," said Brace between his teeth. In the exciting moments which followed, and amidst a deep silence, only broken by the flapping of the sail and the rattle of the water against the boat's bows, Briscoe gently passed the gaff-hook over the side, thrust it down into the water, and waited till the fish should come within reach. It only took four hand-over-hand hauls on the part of the mate, and those who gazed excitedly on could plainly see a huge head, with gaping jaws full of glistening teeth, upon its side as if completely spent, offering its white throat to the sharp hook waiting to be driven in. Another steady draw, and the fish did not move a fin. Then one bold firm snatch, and the hook was holding well in the flesh, and in another moment Briscoe, as he threw himself back on to a thwart, would have had the fish over the side and in the bottom of the boat. But at the first touch of the steel the monster curved itself round till its tail touched its head, and then, with a mighty effort, went off like a spring released by a trigger; there was a tremendous splash, deluging everyone with water, and the fish leaped a couple of yards off the hook, to descend with another splash. As it divided the water, _bang, bang_, two sharp reports rang out from Brace's gun, one charge tearing through the back of the fish, which beat the surface for a few moments and then dived down, discolouring the clear water with blood. In another few seconds the stream was alive with fish of all sizes, making the river boil as they gathered up every scrap, and greedily drank in the blood, while it was evident that the wounded monster was being savagely attacked and devoured alive by an ever-increasing shoal. "Look: just look!" cried Lynton. The words were unnecessary, for everyone's eyes seemed to be starting with the use that was being made of them. Almost as Lynton spoke the whirling water was broken by the great fish springing right out, followed by at least a score of pursuers, apparently half its size and less, ready to dash at it as it struck the water again and disappeared. "Seems to have gone this time," said the American quietly. "Yes, and taken another spoon-bait and hook belonging to the captain," said the second mate ruefully, as he looked at the broken end of the line he held in his hand. "Yes, and he nearly took the gaff-hook as well," said Briscoe. "I say, Mr Briscoe, why didn't you hold him? You had him fast." "Why didn't you hold him with the line?" said the American drily. "Can't you see? It broke." And Lynton held out the end. "And can't you see? What sort of hook do you call this?" As he spoke Briscoe held out the gaff, which was nearly straightened out. "I guess," he continued, "that you people ought to make this sort of tools of hard steel and not of soft iron." They examined the hook, and even though it was made of soft iron the strength exerted to straighten it out as had been done must have been enormous. "Well, anyhow, our fish has gone," said Lynton ruefully. "And if we're not going to have any better luck than this," said Brace, laughing, "the cook will not have much use for his frying-pan. There, let's run up to the falls, and perhaps we may do something with our guns." "Just so," said Briscoe; "only mind how you shoot, for if anything should happen to fall into the water, the fish'll have it before we know where we are. This seems to me," he added drily, "rather a fishy place." _ |
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