turned directly
with a big ugly-looking hook swinging on a piece of twisted wire by its
eye.

"They will not bite through that," he said as he returned.

"Oh, but that's absurdly big," said Rob, laughing. "That would frighten
a forty-pound pike."

"But it wouldn't frighten a sixty-pound dorado, my lad," said Shaddy
quietly.

"What?" cried Rob. "Why, how big do you think that fish was that got
away?"

"Thirty or forty pound, perhaps more."

By this time the young Italian was dividing the orange which Shaddy had
laid upon the thwart beside him, and half of this, with the pulp well
bare, he placed upon the hook, firmly securing this to the line.

"Now, Rob, your turn," said Joe; and the lad eagerly took hold, lowered
the bait, and tossed over some twenty yards of line.

"Better twist it round the pin," said his companion.

"Oh no, sir; hold it."

"Well, then, let me secure the end fast."

Rob was ready to resent this, for he felt confidence in his own powers;
but he held his tongue, and waited impatiently minute after minute, in
expectation of the bite which did not come.

"No luck, eh?" said Shaddy. "I say, I hope you're not going to catch a
water-snake. I'll get my knife out to cut him free; shall I? He might
sink us."

"Do be quiet," said Rob excitedly. "Might have one of those John Doreys
any moment."

But still the minutes went on, and there was no sign.

"How are you going to manage if you hook one?" said Joe quietly.

"Play him till he's tired."

"Mind the line doesn't cut your fingers. No, no, don't twist it round
your hand; they pull very hard. Let him go slowly till all the line's
out."

"When he bites," said Rob in disappointed tones. "Your one has
frightened them all away, or else the bait's off."

"No; I fixed it too tightly."

Just then there was a yawn forward, and another from a second of the
Indians.

"Waking," said Rob. "May as well give it up as a bad job."

"No, no, don't do that, sir. You never know when you're going to catch
a big fish. Didn't you have a try coming across?"

"No; they said the steamer went too fast, and the screw frightened all
the fish away."

"Ay, it would. But you'd better keep on. Strikes me it won't be
fishing weather to-morrow."

_Thung_ went the line, which tightened as if it had been screwed by a
peg, and Rob felt a jerk up his arms anything but pleasant to his
muscles; while, in spite of his efforts, the line began to run throu