Living Silver 



mates were working the fingers off their fists to get that trawl 

 ready for shooting.' It was the interminable Goldfish again. This 

 time he was hanging half over the bridge, his nose almost tickling 

 the hair of Jan's head as it poked thoughtfully at the netting. 



*What the devil do you expect? You didn't ask me to come 

 aboard last night.' 



*Well, I should have. Anyhow, since you've got here at last, 

 you can fix these quarter-ropes to the doors. Or do I have to do 

 it myself?' 



Jan began fumbling among the deflated diamonds near the centre 

 of the net. Easily enough, he disentangled one of the stout 

 quarter-ropes that were harnessed to the bosom of the ground- 

 rope. But a few of his more idiotic colleagues had tied the other 

 fast to the steampipe under the gunwale so that he had to un- 

 fankle a good many amateurish knots and unwrap much of the net 

 before he was able to rescue it. As he worked he began to re- 

 recognise the anatomy of his trawl and to appreciate that by 

 merely unravelling the unshapely cylinder in the most obvious of 

 possible ways it could be paid out, cod-end first, into the water 

 ready to take up its fishing position. The ground-rope, that would 

 have to be heavily man-handled over the side, would be last to 

 go. He had to lead the ropes from the quarters carefully close to 

 this ground-rope toward the doors if he did not risk catching a 

 pocket of lint between the two lines of thick manilla and so 

 fouling the shooting. 



The Goldfish watched him carefully, occasionally cackling an 

 order, but still with a certain amount of appreciation. By the 

 time the quarter-ropes had been shackled to the boards, Jan knew 

 that he had done more work than any of the earlier learners. But 

 his sadistic master was still not satisfied. He wanted Jan to re- 

 place the net as he found it. This was too much. Jan insisted on 

 help and, after a long string of curses, the Goldfish was persuaded 

 to bring a grumbling section of the crew from their morning tea 

 in the fo'c'sle. 



It was high time anyhow. The ship was ready to sail. Mr Finch 



30 



