THE BRITISH HERRING FISHERY 



cheep-cheep sound, like the squeak of mice, is coming up 

 from the hold. If the skipper be facetiously inclined he 

 will reply on being questioned as to the noise 



"Ou, it'll just be the haerin 1 greetm' to gae back." 



Such an informant must needs, one would think, be own 

 brother to the crab or lobster-boiler who announces that 

 his fish scream when thrown into the hot water. As a 

 matter of fact the noise is caused by the escape of the air 

 from the herrings 1 swimming-bladders. 



" All right ; pull up and shairp ! " cries our skipper 

 suddenly ; and the same weary work has to be gone 

 through all over again. And this time the meshes seem 

 fuller than before ; the net must have shot clean in front 

 of a shoal that was driving down with the current. The 

 skipper measures the contents of the hold with his eye. 

 There are still two more nets to be emptied, and the boat 

 won't stand another barrel-full. He takes a philosophical 

 view of the subject ; the rest must go back. A grasping 

 young skipper would perhaps load his vessel till she was 

 like a coal-tramp, but this fellow has more sense ; he has 

 done what he came to do and he means to get home. The 

 superfluous fish are shaken out of the net overboard, and 

 the tired fishermen withdraw to the fire, except those who 

 are occupied in unstepping the mast and fixing the lug. 



Dawn is coming on ; many of the mast-head lights 

 have disappeared and the fishing fleet show signs of 

 gathering together. 



" Twelve maze," or " Fourteen cran," cries the skipper 

 of the Argyle exultingly. " That'll beat ye, lad." 



" I'm thinking we've gotten as many," says our skipper 



144 



