the side of the
mere, where he anchored it with his pole and then leaned over and washed
his hands, which he dried upon a piece of rag.

"Are your hands fishy, Tom?" said Dick.

"No--I washed them."

"Well, then, cut some bread."

The next minute the pie was falling to pieces, the bread undergoing a
change, and the ale sinking rapidly in the stone bottle. After which
the basket was found to contain a certain number of apples, which were
converted into support for the active human beings in the boat, with the
result that the basket was tapped upside down on the edge to get rid of
a few crumbs before the empty pie-dish and stone bottle were replaced,
and the whole tucked away so as to leave all clear.

"Now, lads, I think we ought to do some wuck," cried Dave, seizing the
pole. "I thought so," he added; "I knowed there'd be something here."

"Eh!" cried Tom.

"Don't you see?" said Dick. "There, that bladder's fifty yards from
where it was laid down."

"Hundered," said Dave, plying his pole. "'Fraid it's another peerch."

Dave was wrong, for as they approached the bladder it went off with a
swift dart, and there was a swirl in the water which indicated that a
big fish must be on.

A good ten minutes' chase ensued before Dick was able to hook the line.

"I've got him," he cried: "a monster!"

It certainly was a large pike of probably ten or twelve pounds, but in
spite of its struggles it was drawn close in, with Dave smiling tightly
the while, and ending with a broad grin, for as, in the midst of the
intense excitement connected with their capture, Tom took the line and
Dick leaned forward to gaff the pike, there was a struggle, a splash,
the fish leaped right out of the water, and was gone.

"Hey, but why didn't thou whip the hook into him?" cried Dave.

"I was trying to," said Dick ruefully; "but just as I touched his side
he wagged his tail and went off!"

"Niver mind, lad," cried Dave. "Let's look at the line. Ah, I thowt as
much! Hook's broke."

"Any chance of catching him if we threw in again?" said Tom.

"Nay, he isn't worth trying for. Mebbe he'd bite; mebbe he wouldn't.
He's gone the gainest [nearest] way to his hole. Let's try the next."

The buoy attached to this was not in the place where it had been left,
and for a few minutes the lads looked round in a puzzled way, till, with
a grim smile, Dave thrust the boat close up to a reed patch, when, just
as the punt began to rustle again