I turn Fisherman Indeed 287 



else, which is hardly thinkable, they were thick all 

 the way down, for the last few we caught nearly at 

 the surface, having decreased the depth to which 

 we sunk our hooks at every cast. Then came the 

 breeze, to which we made saU and departed from that 

 wonderful fishing-ground. 



The coasts of Australia and New Zealand abound 

 in fish, but especially Cod, Rockling, or, as they are 

 there called. Rock Cod. They are of two kinds, the 

 red and the blue, both, I think, superior to the grey 

 Cod of our own seas, but the blue is reckoned by far 

 the best. In fact, it fetches nearly double the price. 

 They move in shoals as our home Cod do, following 

 their food, whatever it may be, far up into land-locked 

 bays and estuaries, as they do in Newfoundland and 

 Nova Scotia, where I have seen one of the huge native 

 dogs dive off a pier and emerge with a fine Cod in his 

 mouth, which he proceeded to devour in leisurely 

 fashion. 



This habit of theirs resulted in my making an 

 extensive acquaintance with them once — ^the only 

 time in my Ufe that I was ever a * professional ' fisher- 

 man. Whaling, of course, is excluded. I was stranded 

 in Port Chalmers, moneyless and unable to get a ship. 

 Lounging miserably on the wharf one day, an old 

 boatman of my acquaintance came up and said : 



' Why don't you go fishing ? The Cod are in the 

 harbour, and Jimmy the curer round the flagstaff 

 point will give you eighteenpence a dozen for all 

 you catch.' 



' But I've no boat,' said I, ' nor money to hire one.' 



* I'll lend you a boat,' he replied, * and charge you 

 half-a-crown a day, which you can pay me out of your 

 earnings.' 



I thanked him, and started; fortunately I had 



