IV SEA-KNOWLEDGE 191 



scratches about till their time comes. Only 'tis 

 too far, where I goes, for the likes o' they. Them 

 steamers ha' spoilt the best o'it; they keeps so far 

 out, don't ratch [reach] into the bay like proper 

 sailing vessels; an' if they'm wrecked — poor things, 

 that's wrecked! how I do pity 'em, to be sure! — 

 or if they has to heave their deck-cargo overboard, 

 it don't wash in hereabout. Why, I mind thic 

 schooner coming ashore in Western Bay. . . . 

 Twenty thousand deals her had aboard! Bain't 

 sure I an't got some o'em up to my house now. 

 There's a schooner ashore up to Chesil Beach, they 

 tells me. Breaking up, her is. 'Tis 'bout time 

 us had a south-easter for a change. Then some 

 o' her'll be down here along. Lord Runkum's the 

 boy. I'll hae some o'it. You wait till Lord 

 Runkum comes along. You wait !' 



So long as Benjie talks aloud, one thing is 

 certain; that very little is to be found either up 

 east or down west under the cliff. It is when an 

 ancient sea-knowledge of winds and currents is 

 called for, to predict in exactly what spot a piece 

 of flotsam sighted at sea will be cast ashore; when 

 daily and nightly watchfulness is needed to save the 

 jetsam from being washed off again by rising tides, 

 that his turn comes. And then he says nothing. 



