the out-rigger bend. Yard
after yard of the wet line was pulled in; and by and by the head of a
tremendous fellow parted the water, and came up, one, two, three feet,
writhing and bobbing about.

"Twenty pounds, if an ounce!" shouted young Donovan.

"Heave away!" cried the captain. "Now swing him over the rail!"

They were swinging him in, had almost got their hands on him, when the
big fish gave a sudden squirm. The hook, which was but slightly caught
in the side of its mouth, tore out. Down he went,--_chud!_

Such a yell of despair as arose! such mutual abuse as broke out all
round! till, just at that moment, Wade cried, "I have one!" when all
attention was turned to him. Slowly he draws it up. We were all
watching. But 'twas a smaller one.

"About a seven-pounder," pronounces the captain, safely landing him on
deck, where he was unhooked, and left to wriggle and jump out his
agonies.

A minute later, Raed had out a "ten-pounder;" and, having once begun
to bite, they kept at it, until the deck grew lively with their
frantic leaping.

"Got all we want!" cried the skipper, after about an hour of this sort
of thing. "There's a good two hundred weight of them.--Here, Palmleaf,
pick 'em up, dress 'em, and put 'em in pickle: save what we want for
dinner.--Now, you Donovan and Hobbs, bear a hand with those buckets.
Rinse off the bulwarks, and wash up the deck."

"This is the kind of sport they have on a cod-fisher every day, I
suppose," said Raed.

"Yes; but it gets mighty stale when you have to follow it for a
month," replied Donovan. "I know what cod-fishing is."

... Toward noon the sun began to show its broad disk, dimly outlined in
the white mists. The captain ran for his sextant; and an observation
was caught, which, being worked up, gave our latitude at 45 deg. 35'. We
had probably made in the neighborhood of thirty miles during the
night: so that the _boys_ on "The Catfish" had given a very shrewd
guess, to say the least. In the afternoon we had a fair breeze from the
south-east. All sail was made, and we bowled along at a grand rate.
Early the next morning we saw the first ice,--three or four low,
irregular masses, showing white on the sea, and bearing down toward us
from the north-west with the polar current. This current, coming along
the coast of Labrador, is always laden with ice at this season. To
avoid it, we now bore away to the north-east, keeping for several days
on a direct course for Iceland;