Chapter 8
Tom was going along the rocks in three-fathom water, watching the pollock catch prawns. He saw a round cage of green withes. Inside it, looking very much ashamed of himself, sat his friend the lobster, twiddling his horns, instead of thumbs.
“What, have you been naughty, and have they put you in the lock-up?” asked Tom.
The lobster felt a little indignant at such a notion, but he was too much depressed in spirits to argue. So he only said, “I can’t get out.”
“Why did you get in?”
“After that nasty piece of dead fish.” He had thought it looked and smelt very nice when he was outside. So it did, for a lobster. But now he turned round and abused it because he was angry with himself.
“Where did you get in?”
“Through that round hole at the top.”
“Then why don’t you get out through it?”
“Because I can’t.” The lobster twiddled his horns more fiercely than ever, but he was forced to confess.
“I have jumped upwards, downwards, backwards, and sideways, at least four thousand times; and I can’t get out. I always get up underneath there, and can’t find the hole.”
Tom looked at the trap, and having more wit than the lobster, he saw plainly enough what was the matter.
“Stop a bit,” said Tom. “Turn your tail up to me, and I’ll pull you through hindforemost. Then you won’t stick in the spikes.”
But the lobster was so stupid and clumsy that he couldn’t hit the hole.
Tom reached and clawed down the hole after him, till he caught hold of him. Then, as was to be expected, the clumsy lobster pulled him in head foremost.
“Hullo! here is a pretty business,” said Tom, “Now take your great claws, and break the points off those spikes, and then we shall both get out easily.”
“Dear me, 1 never thought of that,” said the lobster, “and after all the experience of life that I have had!”
But they had not got half the spikes away when they saw a great dark cloud over them. Lo and behold, it was the otter.
How she did grin and grin when she saw Tom. “Yes!” said she, “you little meddlesome wretch, I have you now! I will serve you out for telling the salmon where I was!” And she crawled all over the pot to get in.
Tom was horribly frightened, and still more frightened when she found the hole in the top, and squeezed herself right down through it, all eyes and teeth. But no sooner was her head inside than valiant Mr. lobster caught her by the nose and held on.
And there they were all three in the pot, rolling over and over, and very tight packing it was. And the lobster tore at the otter, and the otter tore at the lobster, and both squeezed and thumped poor Tom till he had no breath left in his body. It is hard to tell what would have happened to him if he had not at last got on the otter’s back, and safe out of the hole.
He was right glad when he got out. But he would not desert his friend who had saved him. The first time he saw his tail uppermost he caught hold of it, and pulled with all his might.
But the lobster would not let go.
“Come along,” said Tom, “don’t you see she is dead?” And so she was, quite drowned and dead.
And that was the end of the wicked otter.
But the lobster would not let go.
“Come along, you stupid old stick-in-the-mud,” cried Tom, “or the fisherman will catch you!” And that was true, for Tom felt someone above beginning to haul up the pot.
But the lobster would not let go.
Tom saw the fisherman haul him up to the boat-side, and thought it was all up with him. But when Mr. Lobster saw the fisherman, he gave such a furious and tremendous snap that he snapped out of his hand, and out of the pot, and safe into the sea. But he left his knobbed claw behind him for it never came into his stupid head to let go after all. So he just shook his claw off as the easier method.
And now happened to Tom a most wonderful thing, for he had not left the lobster five minutes before he came upon a water-baby.
A real live water-baby was sitting on the white sand, very busy about a little point of rock. And when it saw Tom it looked up for a moment, and then cried, “Why, you are not one of us. You are a new baby! Oh, how delightful!”
And it ran to Tom, and Tom ran to it, and they hugged and kissed each other for ever so long. They did not know the reason.
At last Tom said, “Oh, where have you been all this while? I have been looking for you so long, and I have been so lonely.”
“We have been here for days and days. There are hundreds of us about the rocks. How was it you did not see us, or hear us when we sing and romp every evening before we go home?”
Tom looked at the baby again, and then he said:
“This is wonderful! I have seen things just like you again and again, but I thought you were shells, or sea-creatures. I never took you for water-babies like myself.”
