imes hook and line fishermen meet with good fortune, the
results are much less certain than with the traps and the work much
slower and vastly more difficult.

When the water is not too deep jigging with unbaited hooks proves
successful when fish are plentiful. Two large hooks fastened back to
back, with lead to act as a sinker, serve the purpose. This double
hook at the end of the line is dropped over the side of the boat and
lowered until it touches bottom. Then it is raised about three feet,
and from this point "jigged," or raised and lowered continuously until
taken by a cod.

[Illustration: "THE TRAP IS SUBMERGED A HUNDRED YARDS OR SO FROM
SHORE"]

In deep water, however, bait is necessary and the squid is a favorite
bait. A squid is a baby octopus, or "devil fish." The squid is
caught by jigging up and down a lead weight filled with wire spikes
and painted bright red. It seizes the weight with its tentacles. When
raised into the boat it releases its hold and squirts a small stream
of black inky fluid. In the water, when attacked, this inky fluid
discolors the water and screens it from its enemy.

The octopus grows to immense size, with many long arms. Two
Newfoundlanders were once fishing in an open boat, when an octopus
attacked the boat, reaching for it with two enormous arms, with the
purpose of dragging it down. One of the fishermen seized an ax that
lay handy in the boat and chopped the arms off. The octopus sank and
all the sea about was made black with its screen of ink. The sections
of arms cut off were nineteen feet in length. They are still on
exhibition in the St. Johns Museum, where I have seen them many times.
Shortly afterward a dead octopus was found, measuring, with tentacles
spread, forty feet over all. It was not, however, the same octopus
which attacked the fishermen, for that must have been much larger.

We can understand, then, how much Skipper Tom's cod trap meant to him.
We can visualize his pleasure, and share his joy. The trap was, to a
large extent, insurance against privation and hardship. It was his
reward for the self-denial of himself and his family for years, and
represented his life's savings.

When at last the ice cleared from his fishing place and the trap was
set, there was no prouder or happier man on The Labrador than Skipper
Tom. The trap was in the water when the _Princess May_, one Saturday
afternoon, steamed into Red Bay and Doctor Grenfell accepted the
hospitable i