304 ALONGSHORE y 



in the water. If a hitch occurred either in shoot- 

 ing the nets, paying out the cable, or in bending 

 on the lanyards, there was no slowing down. 

 Somebody, frequently the skipper, had to rush in 

 and help them go still faster. Else the net' and 

 cable would have dragged them overboard. 



Relay after relay of men was used up. They 

 came away, drank a mug of beer, puffed awhile, 

 then back to work. The sun went down crimson 

 in a hard east-windy sky, lighting up the crests of 

 the waves so that it seemed as if the sea was 

 already tinged with pink herring blood. And 

 still the net was going over the side. Its flap- 

 flap on the water, the slower whack of each buoy, 

 the splice cries, and the barking of the dog, 

 together with the whistling of the wind, the heavy 

 plunging of the ship, and occasionally the savage 

 hiss of a comber as it raced past us into the 

 burning sunset, — all made a raucous music very 

 mysteriously beautiful on the wide water, a dirge 

 for the slaughter of herrings, hundreds of thou- 

 sands of little deaths, that was to take place out 

 there that night. 



The skipper left the deck for the bridge; and 

 suddenly, blindingly, with powerful electric lamps 

 and reflectors, the whole ship was lighted up 



