en the Admiral made the signal to haul up.

To work they went, therefore--all through the fleet--to hoist in the
harvest of the deep.

It was slow and weary work, as well as hard, that hauling in of the
great cable with its gear. Between two or three hours they laboured and
toiled at it, while the thick veins stood out like cords on the men's
necks, and beads of perspiration trickled down their brows.

"It's goin' to be a big haul, father," said Billy, as the crew stopped
for a few moments to rest.

"P'r'aps another lump of wreck," replied the skipper, somewhat bitterly.

"I hope not," returned Billy, in a cheery voice, resuming his work of
passing the warp down below as it came off the capstan.

At last the end of the bridle came inboard, and the fishermen knew that
their toil, for that time at least, was drawing to a close. Excitement
of a mild type began to arise in the enthusiastic and hopeful among
them.

"Now, boys, heave away," said Joe Davidson, setting the example.

"It seems unwillin' to come, don't it," growled Gunter.

"Dat's 'cause him full ob fishes," said Zulu; "heave away, boys--
altogidder!"

He strained with all his might. So did the rest of the crew. Round
went the capstan, and in a few minutes the great forty-eight feet beam
appeared. This was soon hoisted up by means of tackle, and made fast to
the side, and then began the hauling in--we might almost say clawing
in--of the net, hand over hand, until the cod-end was visible near the
surface. It now became evident that a grand haul had indeed been made,
and that it had been the mere weight of the fish that had delayed them
so long.

Great was the anxiety of course to secure the prize, and energetic the
action displayed. Zulu, being the most active and cat-like, was ordered
to pass a rope round the net to which a powerful double block was
applied.

"Haul away now, boys," said the skipper, whose spirits were somewhat
revived by the sight.

Soon the great balloon-shaped cod-end with its solid mass of fish rose
slowly into the air, and some of the men laid hold to be ready to swing
it inboard and deposit it on the deck, when, suddenly, the stout rope
that bound the lower end of the bag gave way. The entire mass of fish
dropped back into the sea, and sank to the bottom!

For a few seconds dead silence ensued, while the men glanced at the
empty cod-end, and at each other. Then a terrible oath burst from John
Gunter, and a sort of