472 GROWTH OF A STORM. [CHAP. x. 



seed of which is sown in bountiful plenty by nature, which 

 requires no manure to force it to maturity, and no wages for 

 its cultivation. But it is not all gold that glitters. There 

 are risks of life and property connected with the fishery 

 which are unknown to the industries that are followed on the 

 land. There are times, as I have just been endeavouring to 

 show, when there is weeping and wailing along the shore. 

 The days are not always suffused in sunshine, nor is the 

 sea always calm. The boats go out in the peaceful afternoon, 

 and the sun, gilding their brown sails, may sink in golden 

 beauty in its western home of rosy-hued clouds ; but anon the 

 wind will freshen, and the storm rise apace. The black speck 

 on the distant horizon, unheeded at first, soon grows into a 

 series of fast-flying clouds ; and the wind, which a little ago 

 was but a mere capful, soon begins to rage and roar, the waves 

 are tossed into a wilder and wilder velocity, and in a few 

 hours a great storm is agitating the bosom of the wondrous 

 deep. The fishermen become alarmed; hasty preparations 

 are made to return, nets are hauled on board, sails are set and 

 dashed about by the pitiless winds, forcing the boats to seek 

 the nearest haven. Soon the hurricane bursts in relentless 

 fury; the fleet of fishing-boats toss wildly on the maddening 

 waves; gloomy clouds spread like a pall over the scene; 

 while on the coast the waters break with ravening fury, 

 and many a strong-built boat is dashed to atoms on the 

 iron rocks in the sight of those who are powerless to aid, 

 and many a gallant soul spent in death, within a span 

 of the firm-set earth. Morning, so eagerly prayed for by 

 the disconsolate ones who have all the long and miserable 

 night been watching from the land, at length slowly dawns, 

 and reveals a shore covered with fragments of wood and 

 clothes, which too surely indicate the disasters of the night. 

 The debris of boats and nets lie scattered on the rocks 

 and boulders, dumb talebearers that bring sorrow and chill 



