136 ALONGSHORE "i 



On the out-ground of Refuge Cove we down- 

 sailed, baited our hooks, and threw out the lines. 

 Immediately, the riding-lights of the fleet, which 

 before had seemed so remotely fixed, began to bob 

 and dip. One, brighter than the others, dipped 

 thrice; dipped thrice again. 



*They'm signalling !' I cried. 



'Bide quiet,' whispered Benjie. *I got a 

 whiting nibble. Likely as not 'tis the boats 

 rocking.' 



We poured paraffin oil into the baler upon a 

 rag torn from Benjie's coat and set light to it. 

 The flame shot up, was dipped three times, and 

 then I had to drop the baler into the boat, where 

 the oil spread and threatened to burn us out. 

 'They coastguards,' said Benjie, 'will think we'm 

 a ship in distress.' 



'Let 'em !' said I, sucking an oily burnt finger. 



Once more the brightest riding light appeared 

 to dip three times. 



We wound up the lines — "Twas a whiting 

 bite, sure 'nuff !' — made sail, and steered sou'west 

 to the fleet. Presently, with some of the larger 

 riding-lights straight outside us, we crossed several 

 of the long lines of corks that buoy up the head- 

 lines of the drift-nets. We spoke one of our own 



