192 ALONGSHORE iv 



One calm cold January morning after a south- 

 easterly gale, while the ground-swell was still 

 ambling in from that quarter and as lazily urging 

 itself up the beach, we met on the wall in a hail- 

 fellow conversation. Without break in the flow 

 of his talk, without even a change of tone, Benjie 

 lowered his voice to secrecy. 'Aye, 'tis bad,' 

 he had been saying, 'this here ground-swell keep- 

 ing up. You can't get out easy after the herrings 

 — and when you can there's hardly enough for to 

 make it worth while. They won't hang about 

 in the bay wi' this scuffle. . . . 



"Twouldn't do,' he went on very quietly, 

 "twouldn't do for to get catched down there. . . .' 



'Catched where?' 



'Why, down west; if this here little draught 

 from the north-east'ard was to freshen or drop 

 out more east, an' us couldn't row home again. 

 But there, us could haul up to Refuge Cove an' 

 walk home, sure 'nuff; only I wants to go west 

 o' that, west o' Dog's Tooth Ledge, when I 

 goes. . . . 



'This swell' — he raised his voice for a pass- 

 erby to hear — 'it don't go down like it ought to. 

 Must be blowing fresh outside now. . . . 



'After that' — speaking softly again — "tisn't 



