HAND-LINING. 81 
The next development was for my light rod to 
bend in most uncomfortable fashion, the tug, 
tug, and heavy pull unmistakably denoting a 
dog-fish. For fully five minutes I managed to 
play the vermin, getting it in full view at the 
surface—it was a “nurse,” about four fect Case of a 
in length—at the end of which space it got “nurse” 
its teeth in action, and the single gut went. It 
was a matter for congratulation, indeed, that I did 
not lose the whole trace or damage the rod. Had 
there only been a conger-line in the boat, such as 
there had always been before and has always been 
since, half a mackerel would soon have settled the 
question ; but having foolishly left the despised hand- 
lines ashore, we were powerless, and, after I had 
killed a smaller “nurse” of two or three pounds, 
we had to weigh anchor, as the old fish was still 
prowling round and keeping all else away. 
Other cases in which the hand-line is all but in- 
dispensable occur to memory. That of deep water 
has already been quoted; but for those who do 
not shirk the labour of reeling in ten fathoms on a 
four-inch reel every few moments, there are cer- 
tainly modern rods and rod tops that enable them 
to disregard any depth likely to be encountered 
within ten miles of the coast. 
Then there is mackerel-railing from sailing-boats, 
when you get over the water four or five . Pi 
. um- 
knots to the hour, and draw the bait across meting” 
a stiff tide, eight or ten (in clear water, even ae 
twelve) fathoms of line streaming out be- 
hind the boat. Where would the rod be then? 
The line used in this “ plummeting” (the Cornish 
term, derived from the plummet-lead used) tapers 
somewhat from the thick cord held in the hand to 
G 
