188 "OFF TO THE HEREING." 



of the fish, so soon as they are gutted, are carried to the back of 

 the yard, and plunged into a large tub, there to be roused and 

 mixed up with salt ; then the adroit and active packer seizes a 

 handful and arranges them with the greatest precision in a 

 barrel, a handfiil of salt being thrown over each layer as it is 

 put in, so that, in the short space of a few minutes, the large 

 barrel is crammed fuU with many hundred fish, aU gutted, 

 roused, and packed, in a period of not more than ten minutes. As 

 the fish settle down in the barrel, more are added from day to 

 day tiU it is thoroughly fuU and ready for the brand. On the 

 proper performance of these parts of the business the quality 

 of the cured fish very much depends. 



The following detailed description of the " herring-harvest," 

 as gathered in the Moray Firth, may be of interest to the 

 general reader. It is reprinted, by permission, from a paper 

 contributed by the author to the Oornhill Magaane : — 



The boats usually start for the fishing-ground an hour or 

 two before sunset, and are generally manned by four men and a 

 boy, in addition to the owner or skipper. The nets, which 

 have been carried inland in the morning, in order that they 

 might be thoroughly dried, have been brought to the boat in a 

 cart or waggon. On board there is a keg of water and a bag of 

 bread or hard biscuit ; and in addition to these simple neces- 

 saries, our boat contains a bottle of whisky which we have pre- 

 sented by way of paying our footing. The name of our skipper 

 is Francis Sinclair, and a very gallant-looking feUow he is ; and 

 as to his dress — why, his boots alone would ensure the success 

 of a Surrey melodrama ; and neither Truefit nor Eoss could 

 satisfactorily imitate his beard and whiskers. Having got safely 

 on board — a rather difficult matter in a crowded harbour, where 

 the boats are elbowing each other for room — we contrive, with 

 some labour, to work our way out of the narrow-necked harbour 

 into the bay, along with the nine hundred and ninety-nine boats 

 that are to accompany us in our night's avocation. The heights 

 of Pulteneytown, which commands the quays, are covered with 

 spectators admiring the pour-out of the herring fleet and wishing 

 with all their hearts " God speed " to the venturers ; old salts 

 who have long retired from active seamanship are counting their 

 " takes " over again ; and the curer is mentally reckoning up 

 the morrow's catch. Janet and Jeanie are smiling a kindly 

 good-bye to " faither," and hoping for the safe return of Donald 

 or Murdoch ; and crowds of people are scattered on the heights, 



