152 OUT A-FISHING. 



lie full-length and watch the changes which cross the face 

 of Night. 



As soon as day dawns everybody is again on deck. 

 All hands are soon busy at work, taking the net in over 

 the bow ; two supporting the body, the rest hauling 

 the back-rope save one who hands the net down into 

 the hold, and another who arranges it from side to side 

 in such a manner as to preserve the trim of the vessel. 

 Tweet ! tweet f that thin cheeping sound, not unlike the 

 call of the bat, comes from the hapless herrings dying at 

 the bottom of the boat. The sea to leeward, the smack's 

 hold, the muscular arms of the men, and their quaint attire, 

 shine like gleaming silver. As many of the fish as possible 

 are shaken loose during the process of hauling in, but the 

 rest are left in the net until we make the shore. 



Three or four hours pass in this wet and weary work. 

 But at last the nets are all drawn in, the mast is hoisted 

 and the sail set, while the cook pro tempore plunges 

 below to get breakfast. Away we sail for Loch Boisdale. 

 Our good smack makes excellent progress 



"She walks the waters like a thing of life," 



and outstrips many of her comrades, bound as she is for 

 the harbour-mouth. The anchorage is reached, but the 

 work is not quite finished, for the fish has to be measured 

 out in cran baskets, and delivered at the curing-station. 

 By the time that the crew have got their morning dram, 

 have arranged the nets snugly in the stern, and have 

 had some herrings for dinner, it is time to be off again to 

 the harvest-field. Half the crew turn in for sleep, while 

 the other half hoist sail and take the vessel out again to 



