The lower ropes were carefully managed by two experienced men, so that no fish should escape underneath, and the disturbed water at the "bag" end of the net indicated that a large school was inclosed. So quietly and smoothly had all been done that the fish had not realized they were caught. But now ensued a great splashing and boiling, particularly at one place.
"Must be sturgeon in there!" cried Scott. "Carefully now, or he'll break away."
The net was coming in beautifully, when suddenly a long black body shot up out of the water, and fell back with a tremendous splash, and commenced rushing back and forth, threatening to destroy everything.
"What is it?" shouted Scott. "Sturgeon don't act that way."
"We don't know," replied one of the men. "It's too dark to see what it is."
"You will have to kill it, or we'll lose the catch," yelled Scott. "He's tearing the net now."
At this several dashed into the water with poles and staves, and a lively and confused conflict ensued with the monster, while the shad and other captive fish darted about in the wildest manner, frightened out of their wits at the terrible uproar; and in the shallow water were hundreds poking their cold noses against the net, trying to get out.
"It's a shark, as sure as I'm alive," shouted one of the men, jumping one side as the monster made a rush.
"It can't be," replied another; "they don't run here."
"Never mind; pull up the net," called Scott; "there come the rollers from the night boat."
But it was too late, for with a low, sullen roar the heavy rollers from the Albany night boat came tumbling in, upsetting and twisting the net, and carrying it on the rocks.
"There he goes!" cried one of the men, and sure enough the big fish had torn the net, and was free, and like a flash hundreds of shad followed through the hole he had made, so that scarcely fifty good fish were left in it to reward the fishermen's labors.
"Isn't it too bad?" said Joe to Scott, as he passed by to a bright drift-wood fire under the rocky headland, where the men were drying themselves. "I'm real sorry you lost them."
"It's fisherman's luck," replied Scott, quietly. "We'll hope for better next time."
"I hardly know. I never saw one like it, or we would have known how to manage it better."