Patience Wins Part 34

"What, are you going to try for eels that way?" said Uncle Bob laughing, as my uncles seemed to be gradually making out what was to come.

"Well," I said, "they broke my other line."

By this time I had fastened the hooks pretty firmly, and to the cross I now secured the end of the clothes-line.

"Fine eel that, Cob," said Uncle d.i.c.k, hunting the one I had caught into a corner, for it had been travelling all over the place.

"Yes," I said; "and now the tackle's ready, throw in and see if you can't get another."

Uncle d.i.c.k went straight to the doorway, stepped on to the platform, and threw in the hook, which seemed to catch in something and gave way again.

"Come, I had a bite," he said laughing. "What has been thrown in here-- some bundles of wire or steel rods?"

"Try again," I said laughing, and he had another throw, this time getting tight hold of something which hung fast to the hooks, and came up dripping and splas.h.i.+ng to the little platform, where it was seized, and Uncle Bob gave a shout of delight.

"Why, I never expected to catch that," cried Uncle d.i.c.k.

"I thought it was some stolen rings of wire," said Uncle Jack, as he seized hold, and together they dragged a great tangle of leather and catgut bands over the platform into the grinding-shop, fully half falling back with a tremendous splash.

"Cob, you're a hero," cried Uncle d.i.c.k.

"The malicious scoundrels!" cried Uncle Jack.

"Throw in again," said Uncle Bob.

And then Uncle d.i.c.k fished and dragged and hauled up tangle after tangle till there was quite a heap of the dripping bands, with rivulets of water streaming away over the stone floor, and right in the middle a monster of an eel, the gentleman I had hooked, and which had wound itself in and out of the catgut bands till it was held tight by the mouth.

"He deserves to have his freedom," said Uncle d.i.c.k, as he gave the bands a shake so that the hook came out of the eel's mouth, and it began to writhe and twine about the floor.

"And he shall have it," I cried, taking a walking-stick, and for the next five minutes I was employed trying to guide my prisoner to the doorway leading into the pit.

I suppose you never tried to drive an eel? No? Well, let me a.s.sure you that pig-driving is a pleasant pastime in comparison. We have it on good authority that if you want to drive a pig in a particular direction all you have to do is to point his nose straight and then try to pull him back by the tail. Away he goes directly.

Try and drive a big thick eel, two feet six inches long, with a walking-stick, and you'll find it a task that needs an education first.

Put his head straight, and he curves to right or left. Pull his tail, and he'll turn round and bite you, and hold fast too. Mine turned round and bit, but it was the walking-stick he seized with his strong jaws, and it wanted a good shake to get it free.

Every way but the right would that eel squirm and wriggle. I chased him round grindstones, in and out of water-troughs, from behind posts and planks, from under benches, but I could not get him to the door; and I firmly believe that night would have fallen with me still hunting the slimy wriggling creature if Uncle Bob had not seized it with his hands after throwing his pocket-handkerchief over its back.

The next instant it was curled up in the silk, writhing itself into a knot, no doubt in an agony of fear, if eels can feel fear. Then it was held over the pit, the handkerchief taken by one corner, and I expected to hear it drop with a splash into the water; but no, it held on, and though the handkerchief was shaken it was some time before it would quit its hold of the silk, a good piece of which was tight in its jaws.

At last: an echoing splash, and we turned back to where my Uncles Jack and d.i.c.k were busy with the bands.

"The best day's fis.h.i.+ng I ever saw, Cob," cried Uncle Jack. "It was stupid of us not to drag the pit or the dam before."

"I don't know about stupid," said Uncle Bob. "You see we thought the bands were stolen or destroyed. We are learning fast, but we don't understand yet all the pleasant ways of the Arrowfield men."

The rest of the day was spent over the tiresome job of sorting out the different bands and hanging them on their own special wheels to drain or dry ready for use, and when this was done there was a feeling of satisfaction in every breast, for it meant beginning work again, and Uncle Bob said so.

"Yes," said Uncle Jack; "but also means a fresh attempt to stop our work as soon as the scoundrels know."

"Never mind," replied Uncle d.i.c.k. "It's a race to see who will tire first: the right side or the wrong, and I think I know."

"What's to be done next?" said Uncle Bob.

"Let the men know that we are ready for them to come back to work if they like to do so," said Uncle Jack.

"Why not get fresh hands altogether?"

"Because they would be just as great children as those we have now. No; let us be manly and straightforward with them in everything. We shall fight for our place, but we will not be petty."

"But they will serve us some other scurvy trick," said Uncle Bob.

"Let them," said Uncle d.i.c.k; "never mind. There," he cried, "those bands will be fit to use to-morrow with this clear dry air blowing through. Let's go home now and have a quiet hour or two before we come to watch."

"I wish," said Uncle Jack, "that the works joined our house."

"Go on wis.h.i.+ng," said Uncle Bob, "and they won't join. Now, how about telling the men?"

"Let's call and see Dunning and tell him to start the fires," said Uncle d.i.c.k; and as we went back the gate-keeper was spoken to, and the old man's face lit up at the idea of the place being busy again.

"And I hope, gentlemen," he whispered from behind his hand, "that you will be let alone now."

"To which," said Uncle Bob as we walked on, "I most devoutly say, Amen."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

I HAVE AN IDEA.

The work was started the next morning, and for a fortnight or so everything went on in the smoothest manner possible. The men were quite cheerful and good-tempered, doing their tasks and taking their wages, and though we kept our regular watch nothing disturbed us in the slightest degree.

"An' so you fun 'em in the wheel-pit, did you, Mester Jacob?" said Gentles to me one dinner-hour as he sat by his grindstone eating his bread and meat off a clean napkin spread over his knees.

"Yes," I said, looking at him keenly.

"But how came you to find 'em, mester?"

I told him.

"Did you, now?" he cried, shutting his eyes and grinning. "Think o'

that! Why, I put you up to the eels, and so I might say it was me as found the bands, only you see it was not you nor yet me--it was the eel."

He nearly choked himself with laughing, but my next words sobered him, and he sat up looking painfully solemn and troubled of face.

"I'll be bound you know who threw those bands into the water, Gentles,"

I said.

One of his eyes quivered, and he looked at me as if he were going to speak. He even opened his mouth, and I could see his tongue quivering as if ready to begin, but he shut it with a snap and shook his head.