"All in!" French Pete shouted.
The boys laid hold of the line and hove in the dredge. The net was full
of mud and slime and small oysters, with here and there a large one. This
mess they dumped on the deck and picked over while the dredge was dragging
again. The large oysters they threw into the cockpit, and shoveled the
rubbish overboard. There was no rest, for by this time the other dredge
required emptying. And when this was done and the oysters sorted, both
dredges had to be hauled aboard, so that French Pete could put the
_Dazzler_ about on the other tack.
The rest of the fleet was under way and dredging back in similar fashion.
Sometimes the different sloops came quite close to them, and they hailed
them and exchanged snatches of conversation and rough jokes. But in the
main it was hard work, and at the end of an hour Joe's back was aching
from the unaccustomed strain, and his fingers were cut and bleeding from
his clumsy handling of the sharp-edged oysters.
"Dat 's right," French Pete said approvingly. "You learn queeck. Vaire
soon you know how."
Joe grinned ruefully and wished it was dinner-time. Now and then, when
a light dredge was hauled, the boys managed to catch breath and say a
couple of words.
"That 's Asparagus Island," 'Frisco Kid said, indicating the shore. "At
least, that 's what the fishermen and scow-sailors call it.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108