130 EEPOET OF COMMISSIONER OF FISH AND FISHERIES. 



here and there darts a feverish mackerel like a blue and silver flash ; 

 great leathery skates, looking like pigs rolled out flat, raise their snouts 

 in slow astonishment ; here a shark suddenly works his way through 

 the crowding mob; hundreds of goggle-eyed squid, smothered in the 

 press, feebly ply their force-pumps; and there the murderous bluefish, 

 undismayed by imminent death, glares fiercely and snaps his savage 

 jaw to the last. All these, with flat-fish, sea-robins, butter-fish, and 

 many more, are taken and rolled in a fluttering mass iridescent with 

 changing colors, and shower their silver scales high in air. It moves 

 even the wear-men, in their oil skin clothes, with a slight excitement as 

 they cull out from the menhaden the choice and the ofl'al fishes. There 

 is Uncle Abishai smiting sharks with a spear, like so many ISauls, and 

 he sraiteth them not twice, and Captain Ed'ard endeavoring with a 

 swift scoop-net to capture a dodging shad, because Mrs. Asa has 

 boarders and needs a fish for dinner ; and Captain Charles, with the air 

 of one who gets a toy for a good child, diligently striving after some of 

 them 'ere striped robins that the professor wanted. All this is strange 

 and entertaining even to a commissioner, who, by the motion of a long 

 swell and the evil piscatory odor, is somewhat afflicted with what the 

 local satire terms 'white-ears.' And now the menhaden, bushels on 

 bushels, are scooped all quivering into the great scow, for a little outside 

 lies a mackereler who has just let go her anchor with a rattle, and a 

 boat is pulling in with the skipper to buy bait. ' What you got,' cries 

 he, in an indifferent tone. ' Menhaden,' retorts Captain Warren, as if 

 speaking of a new and scarce fish. (A pause.) '■ I don't know but 1 

 might take a few barrels if they was low,' says the skipper. (No reply.) 

 ' W^hat do you want for 'em % ' ' Eighty-five cents,' shouts Captain 

 Warren, and then {sotto voce), 'I don't believe he's got a scale.' At 

 this answer, the man of mackerel pushes over the tiller and steers off 

 indignantly ; but j^resently pauses, ' Give you sixty five, for sev^mty 

 barrels.' ' Seventy-five cents is the lowest,' replies Captain Warren. 

 ' Call it seventy cents for seventy-five barrels.' ' Waal ! Waal ! ' And 

 by this time the scow is full, and the weir-men pull for the vessel, whose 

 numerous crew is ready to hoist the bait on board and salt it down. 

 They stand with knives, barrels, and chopping-blocks, and rapidly cut 

 off the heads and tails of the fish, and the thin parts of the sides, then 

 give a gash in the shoulder, and throw them into the barrel for salting. 

 A mackereler will take as many as 120 barrels of such bait, which is 

 minced fine in a hand-mill and thrown over to toll the fish. 



" Many years ago, when mackerel were cheap, the younger ones, called 

 'No. iJs,' were laboriously chopped up with a hatchet and thrown over as 

 ' chum.' When mackerel became dear, especially during the war, the 

 No. 3s were too valuable to be thrown away, and cheaper material, such 

 as menhaden, was resorted to."* 



*Auu. Kep. Commissioners ou lulaucl Fisheries, for the year eudiug January 1, ld72> 

 pp. 24; 25. 



