234 THE MACKEREL SEINE. 



The whole of the seine having been shot, the men by no 

 means relax their exertions, but row ashore with all speed, 

 carrying with them the end of the rope up the beach, and set 

 to work to haul the net to land, another set of men being in the 

 same manner occupied hauling on a rope attached to the end 

 first thrown into the water. It often happens that a distance of 

 two hundred yards or more intervenes between the ends of the 

 seine and the land, and in order to deter the fish from attempt- 

 ing to escape by passing the ends of the net every effort is made 

 by those in the seine boat and another in attendance to frighten 

 the fish back into the body of the net, and guard the openings 

 by throwing stones, splashing with and thrusting down the 

 oars. 



Meantime, the pole-staves at the ends of the seine approach 

 the shore, and being landed, the fish are comparatively safe, 

 provided the weather is fine and the sea without much swell ; 

 and the cork and lead -line of each arm of the net being 

 now available, four lines of men unite in hauling the seine, 

 which, gradually approaching the shore, gives unmistakable 

 signs that the fish have not been missed, exhibiting sundry un- 

 lucky Mackerel strangled in the meshes or struggling to escape. 



The space becoming every minute more contracted, the 

 body of fish, like a dark blue cloud, is seen rushing wildly to 

 and fro; the bunt or bag-cork in the middle of the net is only 

 fifteen yards from shore ; all hands redouble their former 

 exertions; the net is almost in the landwash or breaking of the 

 wave; the ' Brit ' or small fish of the Herring tribe, forced to 

 accompany the Mackerel by the draught of the net, friz out of 

 the water in a pearl-like shower; shouts of ' Keep down the 

 foot-line' are heard; the crowd is commanded in language 

 more energetic than elegant not to scramble (trample) over the 

 net, and the bunt or bag grounds on the shingle, being im- 

 mediately surrounded by the fishermen, who hold up the cork- 

 line, that the fish may not be washed out of the net. 



The sight is such that, once seen, it will never be forgotten ; 

 a quivering, heaving, struggling mass of silver and blue com- 

 bined is before you ; every bystander is covered with scales, 

 which fly like rain from the captured fish in their ineffectual 



