SHOOTING THE NETS. 189 



all taMng various degrees of interest in the scene, ■which is 

 stirringly picturesque to the eye of the tourist, and suggestive 

 to the thoughtftd observer. 



Bounding gaily over the waves, ■which are crisping and 

 curling their crests under the influence of the land-breeze, our 

 Bhoulder-of-mutton sail filled ■with a good capful of ■wind, ■we 

 hug the rocky coast, passhig the ruined to'wer kno^wn as " the 

 Old Man of Wick," ■which serves as a capital landmark for the 

 fleet. Soon the red sun begins to dip into the golden ■west, 

 burnishing the -waves -with lustrous crimson and silver, and 

 against the darkening eastern sky the thousand sails of the 

 herring-fleet blaze like sheets of flame. The shore becomes 

 more and more indistinct, and the beetling clifis assume fantastic 

 and -weird shapes, -whilst the moaning ■waters rush into deep 

 cavernous recesses ■with a -wild and monotonous sough, that falls 

 on the ear -with a deeper and a deeper melancholy, broken only 

 by the shrill -wail of the herring-gull. A dull hot haze settles 

 on the scene, through which the coppery rays of the sun penetrate, 

 powerless to cast a shadow. The scene grows more and more 

 picturesque as the glowing sails of the fleet fade into grey specks 

 dimly seen. Anon the breeze freshens and our boat cleaves the 

 water with redoubled speed : we seem to sail farther and 

 farther into the gloom, until the boundary-line between sea and 

 shore becomes lost to the sight. 



We ought to have shot our nets before it became so dark, 

 but our skipper, being anxious to hit upon the right place, so 

 as to save a second shooting, tacked up and down, uncertain 

 where to take up his station. We had studied the movements 

 of certain "wise men" of the fishery — men who are always 

 lucky, and who find out the fish when others fail ; but our crew 

 became impatient when they began to smell the water, which 

 had an oily gleam upon it indicative of herring, and sent out 

 from the bows of the boat bright phosphorescent sparkles of 

 light. The men several times thought they were right over 

 the fish, but the skipper knew better. At last, after a lengthened 

 cruise, our commander, who had been silent for half-an-hour, 

 jumped up and called to action. " Up, men, and at 'em," was 

 then the order of the night. The preparations for shooting the 

 nets at once began by our lowering saU. Surrounding us on all 

 sides was to be seen a moving world of boats ; many with their 

 sails down, their nets floating in the water, and their crews at 

 rest, indulging in fitful snatches of sleep. Other boats again 



