TRAWLING 



for the ear to be entertained rather than the eye. The 

 crunch of boat-keels over the pebbly beach, the hollow 

 shouts of the men, the plash and rumble of the oars 

 noises that, in the daytime, pass unnoticed because they 

 are drowned by others from the land are now not only 

 heard, but almost felt. The atmosphere of gaiety that is 

 a feature of a daylight departure is wanting now, for the 

 men have been called out of snug beds to catch the tide 

 that must be taken, if not " at the flood," at least soon 

 after the ebb has begun ; some are sulky, others half 

 asleep, and the rest are silent because even the most 

 civil remark might beget a surly answer or be ignored 

 altogether. 



As each boat reaches the water's edge there is a 

 splashing sound ; the big, sea-booted men are scrambling 

 into their places. Then comes the rhythmical knock- 

 knock of the oars against the rowlocks as the boat 

 hurries away into the gloom, her passage marked by the 

 phosphorescent line left as she passes through the water, 

 and by the pale gold drops that fall from the oar-blades. 

 Presently the watcher on the shore hears a bump and a 

 grating noise; the little boat has got alongside the smack; 

 the men are clambering on board ; the boat is made fast 

 astern of the larger vessel, and work is about to begin. 

 How the crew have distinguished their particular smack 

 from the fifty, hundred, or two hundred lying at anchor 

 is, to the landsman, a profound mystery; yet there has 

 not been an instant of hesitation in the fishermen's minds ; 

 they have threaded their way as easily and naturally 

 among the large fleet as a London policeman would cross 



