236 NORTH SEA FISHERS AND FIGHTERS 



usual. By night the wind had strengthened and the sea 

 had grown ; still the telegraph pointed to " Full speed 

 ahead," and the carrier drove along with the water 

 roaring down her deck and the spray dashing heavily 

 across the bridge and glittering in the moonlight like an 

 icy shroud. 



" You're driving her ! " I shouted to the skipper, as 

 we dodged behind the weather-cloth. 



" Yes, we're bound to catch the market." He turned 

 to bawl to the engine-room, " Shove her along, boys ! " 

 and, obedient to the order, the fires were fed and black 

 smoke belched from the funnel, going straight astern, 

 while the vessel plunged through the head seas harder 

 than ever and the water surged and thundered down 

 the deck. "We start full speed ahead," he continued, 

 "and never stop till London's reached, no matter what 

 the weather's like. These cutters are splendid boats 

 and will weather any breeze. They're the hardest- 

 driven steamboats afloat. Sometimes she's nearly buried, 

 and I've seen heavy spray dash right over the mast-head. 

 Not long since she had the front of the bridge it's a 

 dozen feet above the deck washed away, and the wheel 

 was smashed to pieces. But that's nothing, of course. 

 We must catch the market. That's a standing order ; 

 and if we don't obey it, well, other men will. You see, 

 if we're a few hours late the cargo depreciates, and that 

 doesn't suit either the seller or the buyer." 



I wonder what has happened to my cheerful, friendly, 

 brown-faced skipper and his giant mate, who, later, wrote 

 and said that since I left them they had had nothing 

 but bad weather and ill-luck. Do they still drive out 

 beyond the Nore and the Maplin and into the black 



