for a bite. Indeed, as soon as the hook was thrown into the
water, several mackerel would dart for it. As George said, they were
very anxious to be caught. This was very different from my previous
experience in fishing for trout in the little brooks near my home. I used
to fish all day and not get more than two or three trout, and often I
would not get one. Those that I did catch were not more than four or
five inches long. I guess some of my boy readers have had the same
experience.
The only drawback was baiting the hook whenever a fish was taken
from it. Uncle James soon remedied this difficulty. He cut from the
under side of a dead mackerel six thin pieces, about half an inch in
diameter, and gave each of us two. We put them on our hooks, and they
served for bait a long time. When they were gone, we put on more of
the same kind. Mackerel will bite at any very small object, almost, that
they can see, and sometimes fishermen fasten a small silver coin to
their hooks, which will do duty as bait for days. They wish to catch as
many fish as they possibly can, while they are biting, for mackerel are
very notional. Sometimes they will bite so fast as to tire their captors,
and, ten minutes after, not one can be felt or seen. Usually, they can be
caught best in the morning and toward evening. I suppose they have but
two meals a day, breakfast and supper, going without their dinner. In
this respect, they resemble trout and many other kinds of fish.
They are caught in great numbers off the coast of Maine and
Massachusetts in the months of August and September. Hundreds of
schooners, large and small, and thousands of men and boys are
employed in the business. Standing upon the shore, near Portland, and
looking out upon the Atlantic, on a bright summer's day, you can
sometimes see more white, glistening sails of "mackerel-catchers" than
you can count. At the wharves of every little village on the sea-shore,
or on a river near the shore, boats and fishermen abound. Of late years,
immense nets or "seines" have been used, and often, by means of them,
enormous quantities of fish have been secured in one haul. The season
is short, but most of the fishermen, before the mackerel come and after
they go, engage in fishing for cod and hake, which are plentiful also.
Mackerel-catching has its joys, but it also has its sorrows and
uncertainties. One vessel may have excellent luck while another may be
very unfortunate. In short, those engaged in the pursuit of mackerel
have to content themselves with "fishermen's luck."
While we were busily fishing, George called my attention to a dark fin,
projecting a few inches above the water, and gradually approaching the
boat with a peculiar wavy motion. Just before reaching us it sank out of
sight. I cast an inquiring glance at my cousin, who said, in a low tone of
voice, "A shark!" A feeling of wonder and dread came over me, and
doubtless showed itself in my face, for my uncle said, in an assuring
voice, "He will not harm us."
The mackerel stopped biting all at once. Our fishing was over. It was
now about ten o'clock, and the sun had become warm. Half a mile from
us was a small island, with a plenty of grass and a few trees, but no
houses. Uncle James proposed that we should row to it, which we
gladly did. Its shores were steep and rocky, and we found much
difficulty in landing; but at last we got ashore and pulled the boat up
after us. Among the rocks we found a quantity of drift-wood; we
gathered some, and built a fire. Uncle James produced some bread and
crackers from his basket, and, after roasting some of the nice, fat
mackerel on sharp sticks before the fire, we sat down to what seemed to
us a delicious breakfast. We were in excellent spirits, and George and I
cracked jokes and laughed to our hearts' content. After our hunger had
been satisfied, we wandered over the island, which we christened
Mackerel Island, and, sitting upon a high cliff, watched the seals as
they bobbed their heads out of the water, and turned their intelligent,
dog-like faces, with visible curiosity, toward us. They did not seem to
be at all afraid, for they swam close to the rock upon which we sat. We
whistled, and they were evidently attracted by the sound. These seals
are numerous in some of the bays on the New England coast. Most of
them are small, but occasionally one is
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