FISHERIES PROTECTION 193 



an end. The warps come in as the windlass heaves, and 

 the fishermen, in yellow canvas aprons, claw their nets 

 over the sides ; the fish gleam like bars of silver in the 

 rising sun as they are shaken from the net and lie in 

 shining heaps upon the deck. Another hour and the 

 sea is red and black with their sails. A fresh breeze 

 comes piping up from the northward, and a great Scotch 

 drifter passes the loitering gunboat. The huge red 

 lugsail is eased a trifle, and as the sheet tugs on its 

 groaning cleat the splendid boat lays over and tears land- 

 ward like a racing cutter. . f * < 



" ' Whither away now, sir ? ' asks the sub. 



" ' Oh, we'll have a turn on the Broad Fourteens,' 

 answers his captain, ' and pick up some fresh soles for 

 breakfast to-morrow out of the trawlers.' 



" So they seek the haunt of the flat fish and the trawler, 

 which is the middle of the North Sea, and find the 

 boats hard at work, headed by their ' Admiral,' who 

 flies a red flag and directs the fleet, and is generally the 

 oldest and the wisest of these splendid fishermen from 

 Yarmouth and Lowestoft. They fill up with fresh water, 

 loiter again through the night, and in the morning the 

 wind drops. A big Lowestoft trawler hails as they pass. 



" * Got no water aboard, sir ; will you give us a 

 "pluck" into Ymuiden?' 



" So the end of the trawl- warp is passed aboard and 

 the grateful skipper is left within a mile of his market 

 and his destination, while the gunboat streaks across, as 

 the sun dips, to shepherd the drifters once again." 



It is shepherding, indeed, with these harvesters of 

 the Dogger ; but sometimes a black member of the flock 

 13 



