198 NORTH SEA FISHERS AND FIGHTERS 



aboard, boats, gun, and torpedo-tube were deep in snow, 

 and the lee-side of the bridge was a veritable drift. 

 The Captain and the Sub were on the bridge, making 

 a night of it. 



" They could see nothing. Hour after hour they 

 clung to the bridge rail, striving to pierce with 

 ineffectual vision the wreaths and wreaths of snow. 

 The wind howled and whistled, the ship rolled heavily, 

 the siren sent up its mournful note. Ever and anon the 

 Captain's servant struggled up the steep bridge-ladder 

 with boiling cocoa, which kept the life in them. Neither 

 spoke, and all sensation had long ceased in their hands 

 and feet. 



" From out of the unseen came a yell : ' Hard a star- 

 board, for the love of God ! ' 



" It was the voice of the look-out man. The port 

 telegraph clanged to ' Stop/ 



" ' Over with her, Quartermaster,' said the Captain 

 quietly, his hand on the lever of the telegraph. The 

 steam wheel rattled furiously. 



" ' Right your helm, sir, and she'll clear,' came the 

 voice of the Sub to starboard. 



" Again the wheel spun. The Captain dashed across 

 the bridge, and there, sliding by, close enough for a 

 man to have put out his hand and touched her, was 

 a ship. 



"' Sailing ship not ringing her bell; close shave,' 

 was the only comment. ' Put her on her course, 

 Quartermaster." 



That is a fine word-picture of fisheries protection 



