Then the lines, cords, and anchors were got on board, and, leaving the boat to drift with the sharp current which carried it onward, the old man drew a long, sharp-pointed knife from its sheath, and cautiously turned over portions of the net.
"Oh, murder!" said Mike.
"Well, how many poor fish has it murdered ?" said Vince.

"Mind it don't pike you, Joe!" he shouted.
"I'm a-goin' to, my lad; and you mind, too, when you ketches one.
They'll drive their pike at times right through a thick leather boot; and the place don't heal kindly afterward.

Ha! now I've got you," he muttered, as, getting one foot well down over the keen spine with which the fish was armed, and which it was striking to right and left, he held down the head, and, carefully avoiding the threads of the net, stabbed it first right through, and then dexterously divided the backbone just at its junction with the skull, before, with the fish writhing feebly, he gradually shook it clear of the net, and stood looking viciously down at his captive.
"Won't eat no more mullet right up to the head, will he, lads ?" "No; he has had his last meal," replied Vince, turning the fish over and displaying its ugly mouth.

"Now, if it was six feet long instead of four, you'd call it a shark." "Nay, I shouldn't; and he would be a dog-fish still.

Well, he's eat a many in his time.