m CONFUSION 157 



top to bottom of the water. The pool within 

 the semicircle of head-rope corks is all of a boil 

 with them. 'Easy thic head-rope o' yours ! Easy !' 

 is the cry, when the corks on one arm bob under; 

 for should some of the fish discover a gap, the 

 remainder will follow like a flock of sheep, and a 

 water-haul it will be. Or again, 'Keep thic foot- 

 rope down, casn'?' lest the leads rise off the 

 bottom and any flat-fish there may be in the net 

 escape underneath. As the seine comes in, getting 

 less and less in weight, the pace quickens, until, 

 with brit streaming out of every mesh, and the 

 fish flapping and floundering about inside, the 

 bunt of the net is hauled ashore in a wave. 



Then the confusion Is at Its height. If the 

 seine has been shot in the daytime anywhere near 

 the Front, a crowd bundles down, treads right 

 over the net, and almost presses the seiners into 

 the water In its eagerness to see the fish, and to 

 torment the already harassed fishermen with a hail 

 of questions. Children grab at the poisonous 

 little stinging-fish, or weevers, and look up with 

 bland Inquiring eyes when they are roughly 

 handled to make them drop their pretty little 

 fishes quick. (Were they stung they would pro- 

 bably have to be carried home.) Boxes are shouted 



