14. LAME DUCK HUNTING 



One after another the herring-drifters left the 

 beach, and, with a nor'west breeze off-land, 

 steered for the sou'western fishing-ground. Men 

 ran into the water to give them a last shove. The 

 crews, already wet-footed, scrambled aboard over 

 the bows. Mizzens fluttered out aft. Tall 

 dipping lugsails went up the masts in jerks, while 

 the shouts of the men hauling the halyards taut 

 came ashore over the water strangely calmed by 

 the spaciousness around; and as the boats, one by 

 one, luffed up into the wind, the winter afternoon's 

 sunlight shone white on their sails, on clean new 

 sails and dirty sails alike. Small craft though 

 they were, their going for the night made a stately 

 procession down into the west. 



We stood round our own drifter, which had 

 been hauled to the water's edge, waiting for Jim 



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