Dick o' the Fens Part 31

"So shall I," cried d.i.c.k.

"Theer, I towd you so," cried Dave. "I knowed you'd find it ower cowd.

Let's go back."

"Go on with you!" cried d.i.c.k; "who said it was cold? I want the summer, because of the suns.h.i.+ne, and the reeds and rushes turning green again, and the birds."

"There's plenty o' birds," said Dave.

"Yes, but I mean singing birds, and nesting, and flowers, and the warmth."

"Theer, I towd you so. You are cowd," cried Dave.

"When I'm cold I'm going to use the pole," said d.i.c.k. "I say isn't it deep here, Dave?"

"Ay, theer's some deep holes hereabouts," said the man, trying in vain to reach the bottom with his long pole. "They wean't dree-ern they in a hurry, Mester d.i.c.k."

"Good job too, Dave! We don't want our fis.h.i.+ng spoiled. Now, then, how much further are you going?"

"Strite across to wheer we saw that big pike rise, my lad."

"Shall we catch him, Dave?"

"Mebbe yes; mebbe no, my lad. If he wants his dinner, and we sets it down by his door stoop, he'll tek it. If he's hed his dinner he wean't touch it."

"Then let's make haste and get there before dinnertime," cried Tom.

"Pole away, Dave."

"Nay, we've got to go quiet-like, my lad. We don't want to scare the fish, and send 'em to the bottom to lie sulky. Nice wisp o' duck yon."

He nodded to a long string of wild-fowl flying low over the melancholy-looking water, and they were watched till they disappeared.

"Caught any more in the 'coy, Dave?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Few, lad, few. Not enew to tek' to market. Me and John Warren sent 'em wi' the rabbits."

"Ah! he promised us a day with the ferrets. Let's stir him up, Tom.

Now, Dave, do let's begin."

The man shook his head and smiled as if he were enjoying the tantalising process he put the boys through, and kept on poling till they were quite a couple of miles from the Toft, when he suddenly laid down his long pole, and seated himself in the boat by the big basket.

"Now," he said, "if you want to see you shall see;" and he began to take out carefully so many short fis.h.i.+ng-lines, the hook in each case being carefully stuck in between the osiers so as not to catch. To every one of these lines was attached a bladder, save and except four, which were bound to as many black and compressed pieces of cork, which looked as if they had been washed ash.o.r.e after doing duty as buoys to some fishermen's nets.

"Theer we are: ten of 'em," said Dave smiling as if he were antic.i.p.ating the pleasure he would feel in getting some monster tyrant pike upon the hook. "You, young Tom Tallington, pa.s.s me that theer boocket."

Tom lifted the bucket, which stood at the side, covered over with some old pieces of netting, and placed it between Dave's knees in the spot from which he removed the basket.

"Now you can both hev a look," he said with a sly glance from one to the other. "Hey, little boys, then; hey, little boys: back yow go!"

This was to a couple of frogs, which had been in the water the bucket contained, but had climbed up the side, to try and get through the meshes of the net, but only to force their heads through and hold on with their claws.

Dave poked one of the frogs with his finger, but the little reptile swelled itself out, and took hold more tightly of the net.

"Here, let go, will you!" cried d.i.c.k, taking the frog between his fingers gently enough; but the little creature clung more tightly, and began to squeal loudly, till it was dislodged and dropped into the pail, the other being shaken free, and falling with a splash beside his fellow, when there was a tremendous commotion in the pail; for, beside a couple more frogs, there were about a dozen small fishes scurrying about in the water.

"Theer," cried Dave, looking up; "what do you say to them for bait, eh?"

"Why, they're gudgeons, Dave!" cried d.i.c.k.

"Ay, lad, gudgeons."

"Where did you get them?" asked Tom. "There are no gudgeons in the fen waters."

"Not as I iver see," said Dave with his quiet laugh. "I went right across to Ealand, and then walked four mile with my net and that boocket to Brader's Mill on little Norley stream and ketched 'em theer, and carried 'em all the way back to the boat--four mile. For, I says, I should like they boys to ketch a big pike or two, and gudgeons is best baits I know."

"Better than roach and rudd, Dave?"

"Ay, or perch, or tench, or anything. Carp's a good bait; but you can't always ketch carps."

"You are a good chap, Dave!" cried Tom.

"Ay, that I am, lads. I say, though, talk 'bout ketching; hev the squire and Farmer Tallington ketched the chap as sat fire to Grimsey stables?"

"n.o.body set fire to Grimsey stables," said Tom. "It was to the stacks."

"Nay, lad, I knows better than that," cried Dave, shaking his head.

"Why, didn't I see with my own eyes as roof weer all bont off the top o'

stable, and doors gone."

"Yes; but the stable caught fire from the stacks," said d.i.c.k.

"Yah! how could it? Why, it's reight the other side o' the house."

"Well, couldn't the sparks and flames of fire float over and set light to the thatch?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Set fire to the thack!" said Dave. "Ah, well, I warn't theer! But hev they ketched him?"

"No, and not likely to. There, never mind Tallington's stacks; let's try for the pike."

"Ay, lads, we will," said Dave, and, plunging his hand into the bucket, he took out a transparent gudgeon, whose soft backbone was faintly visible against the light; then carefully pa.s.sing the hook through its tough upper lip, he dropped it over the side of the boat into the water directly.

"Theer, lads," he said; "now over with that blether."

d.i.c.k seized the line, and as the gudgeon swam off he dropped the bladder over the side, and it was slowly towed away.

"I wish fis.h.i.+ng wasn't so precious cruel," said Tom, as he watched the bladder dance upon the surface, while the punt was slowly thrust away from the neighbourhood of the reed-bed, where the big pike was supposed to lie.

"'Tisn't cruel," said d.i.c.k.