"Ay," he said, "if we'd knowed they was there, we might ha' crep along the rocks and dropped a net acrost, and then caught the lot."

"Mullet, weren't they?" said Vince.

"Yes: grey ones," said Mike, shading his eyes, and following the wave made by the retiring shoal.

"Ay--grey mullet, come up to see if there was anything to eat. Smelt where I'd been cleaning fish and throwing it into the water."

The boat went on after the shoal of fish, in and out along the great jagged rift leading seaward, their way seeming to be barred by a towering pyramid of rock partly detached from the main island, while the sides of the fault grew higher and higher till they closed in overhead, forming a roughly-arched tunnel, nearly dark; but as soon as they were well in, the light shining through the end and displaying a framed picture of l.u.s.trous sea glittering in the sunlight, of which enough was reflected to show that the sides of the tunnel-like cavern were dotted with limpets, and the soft, k.n.o.b-shaped, contracted forms of sea anemones that, below the surface, would have displayed tentacles of every tint, studded, as it were, with gems.

The roof a few feet above their heads echoed, and every word spoken went whispering along, while the iron point and hook of the implement old Daygo used gave forth a loud, hollow, sounding click as it was struck upon side or roof from time to time.

"I say," cried Vince suddenly, "we never tried for a conger along here, Mike."

"No good," growled Daygo.

"Why?" said Vince, argumentatively. "Looks just the place for them: it's dark and deep."

"Ay, so it is, boy; and I daresay there arn't so many of they mullet gone back to sea as come up the hole."

"Then there are congers here?"

"Ay, big uns, too; but the bottom's all covered with rocks, and there's holes all along for the eels to run in, and when you hook 'em they twist in, and you only lose your line."

He gave the boat a vigorous shove, and it glided out into the light once more, a hundred yards from the cliff, but with the rugged pyramid of granite through which they had pa.s.sed towering up behind them, and its many shelves dotted with sea-birds lazily sunning themselves and stretching out their wings to dry.

A few flew up, uttering peculiar cries, as the boat darted out of the dark arch beneath them; but, for the most part, they merely looked down and took no further notice--the boat and its little crew being too familiar an object to excite their fear, especially as its occupants did not land, and the egg-time was at an end.

"Now, then, up with the mast, lads!" said the old man; and cleverly enough the boys stepped the little spar by thrusting its end through a hole in the forward thwart and down into a socket fixed in the inner part of the keel. Then the stays were hooked on, hauled taut, and up went the little lug-sail smartly enough, the patch of brown tanned canvas filling at once, and sending the boat gliding gently along over the rocks which showed clearly deep down through the crystal sea.

"Soon know how to manage a boat yourselves," said the old man grimly, as he thrust an oar over the stern and used it to steer.

"Manage a boat ourselves!" cried Mike. "I should think we could--eh, Vince?"

"Should think you could!" said the old man laughing. "Ah! you think you could, but you can't. Why, I hardly know how yet, after trying for fifty year. Wants some larning, boys, when tide's low, and the rocks are bobbing up and down ready to make holes in the bottom. Don't you two be too sure, and don't you never go along here far without me."

The boys said nothing; but they felt the truth of the man's words as he steered them in and out among the jagged ma.s.ses of granite, around which the gla.s.sy currents glided, now covering them from sight, now leaving bare their weed-hung, broken-out fangs; while on their left, as they steered north toward a huge projection, which ran right out on the far side of a little bay, the perpendicular cliffs rose up grey and grand, defended by b.u.t.tresses formed by ma.s.ses that had fallen, and pierced every here and there by caverns, into which the water ran and rushed with strange, hollow, whispering noises and slaps and gurglings, as if there were peculiar creatures far up in the darkness resenting being disturbed.

Every now and then the sea, as it heaved and sank, laid bare some rounded ma.s.s covered with long, hanging sea-weed, which parted on the top and hung down on either side, giving the stone the appearance of some strange, long-haired sea monster, which had just thrust its head above the surface to gaze at the boat, and once this was so near that Mike shrank from it as it peered over the thwart, the boat almost grating against the side.

"Wasn't that too close?" said Vince quickly.

"Nay," said the old man quietly: "if you didn't go close to that rock, you'd go on the sharp rock to starboard. There's only just room to pa.s.s."

A minute later, as the two lads, were gazing in at the gloomy portals of a water-floored cave, in and out of which birds were flying, a dexterous turn of the oar sent the boat quickly round, head to wind, the sail flapped over their heads, and Vince seized the boat-hook without being told, and, reaching over the side, hooked towards him a couple of good-sized pieces of blackened cork, through which a rope had been pa.s.sed and knotted to prevent its return.

This rope Mike seized, hauled upon it, drawing the boat along, till it was right over something heavy, which, on being dragged to the surface, proved to be a great beehive-shaped, cage-like basket, weighted with stones, and provided with a funnel-like entrance at the top.

"Nothing!" cried Mike; and the lobster-pot was allowed to sink back into the deep water among the rocks as soon as it had been examined to see if it contained bait.

Then there was another short run, and a fresh examination of one of these trap-like creels, with better success; for a good-sized lobster was found to be inside, and, after two or three attempts, Vince seized it across the back, and drew it out as it flicked its tail sharply, and vainly sought to take hold of its aggressor with its formidable, pincer-armed claws.

Old Daygo hooked the lobster towards him with the toe of his boot, clapped it between his knees, and cleverly tied its claws with pieces of spun yarn before dropping the captive into a locker in the stern, half full of water, which was admitted through holes in the side.

A couple more lobster-pots were tried, without success, as the boat glided along by the side of the great granite cliffs, where the many black cormorants, which made the shelves and points their home, gave ample reason for the solitary island, far out among the rushing waters of the fierce currents, to be named Cormorant Crag by all who sailed that way, and avoided as the most dangerous rock-bound place off the coast.

Then came a change, the boat being steered to a channel which ran between a mighty ma.s.s of piled-up granite and the cliffs. This gap was about forty yards wide, and the pent-up waters rushed through, eddying and rippling, and taking the boat along at a rapid rate. But Daygo steered close enough in to enable him to throw the little grapnel in the bottom of the boat on to the rocks nearest the cliffs. The iron caught at once, the line was checked and fastened, and the boat, swung now in the swift race close to a little keg, from which ran a row of corks, anch.o.r.ed in a calmer place across the tide.

"Down with the lug!" growled the old man. His crew lowered the sail quickly, and stowed it out of their way, for the chief feature of the little trip was close at hand. Old Daygo went forward now, shaking his head at the boys' progress of hauling in the trawl-net line themselves.

"Ay," he said; "you can take out the fish if there be any." And he methodically dragged the net, which had been stretched like so many walls of meshes overnight right across the swift waters of the tide, having been down long enough for the ebb and flow both to pa.s.s through it, with the consequence that, if fish had pa.s.sed that way, they would have been pocketed or become netted among the meshes from either side.

But a good deal of the net was dragged into the boat before the glittering scales of a fish were seen.

"Red mullet!" cried Vince, as he pounced upon two small ones, looking as if clothed in mother-o'-pearl, speckled and stained with scarlet.

These were taken out and thrown into the locker, with the result that the lobster flipped its tail and splashed about furiously. But by this time there was a golden gleam in the net drawn aboard; taking his turn, Mike dragged out a grotesque-looking, big-headed John Dory, all golden-green upon its sides, and bearing the two dark marks, as if a giant finger and thumb had been imprinted upon it. This, too, with its great eyes staring, and wide mouth gaping feebly, was thrown into the locker.

Then old Daygo began to growl and mutter: for the meshes showed the heads only of a fine pair of red mullet, the whole of the bodies having been eaten away; and a minute later up came the cause, in the shape of a long, grey, eely-looking fish, which writhed and struggled violently to get free, but only entangled itself the more tightly.

"Nay, nay! let me come," cried the old man, as he saw the boys whip out their knives. "I don't want my net cut to pieces; I'll do it myself."

He threw the portion of the net containing the captive on one side in the bottom of the boat, and hauled in the rest, which contained nothing but a sickly green, mottled-looking wra.s.se of about a couple of pounds weight. Then the lines, cords, and anchors were got on board, and, leaving the boat to drift with the sharp current which carried it onward, the old man drew a long, sharp-pointed knife from its sheath, and cautiously turned over portions of the net.

"Oh, murder!" said Mike.

"Well, how many poor fish has it murdered?" said Vince. "Mind it don't pike you, Joe!" he shouted.

"I'm a-goin' to, my lad; and you mind, too, when you ketches one.

They'll drive their pike at times right through a thick leather boot; and the place don't heal kindly afterward. Ha! now I've got you," he muttered, as, getting one foot well down over the keen spine with which the fish was armed, and which it was striking to right and left, he held down the head, and, carefully avoiding the threads of the net, stabbed it first right through, and then dexterously divided the backbone just at its junction with the skull, before, with the fish writhing feebly, he gradually shook it clear of the net, and stood looking viciously down at his captive.

"Won't eat no more mullet right up to the head, will he, lads?"

"No; he has had his last meal," replied Vince, turning the fish over and displaying its ugly mouth. "Now, if it was six feet long instead of four, you'd call it a shark."

"Nay, I shouldn't; and he would be a dog-fish still. Well, he's eat a many in his time. Now his time's come, and something'll eat him. Hyste the sail."

The dog-fish--a very large one of its kind--was thrown overboard, the sail hoisted, and the boat began to glide onward toward the semicircular bay into which they were drifting, with the huge, ma.s.sive promontory straight ahead. Then the oar was pressed down, and the boat began to curve round.

"Hi! stop! Don't go back yet!" cried Vince.

"Eh? Why not? No more lobster-pots down."

"I want to sail across the bay, and get round by the Scraw."

"What!" cried the old man, looking at him fiercely. "You want to go there? Well!"

He turned his eyes upon Mike, who encountered the fierce gaze, and said, coolly enough:

"Well, all right; I want to go too. I've only seen the place at a distance."