OSSEOUS FISHES-. 
569 
rope, and each separate net of the series is marked off by a bladder or 
empty cask. The process is that described by Dr. Bertram in an 
article published in the “ Cornhill Magazine.” The writer had made 
his arrangement for a night at the herring-fishery under the auspices 
of Francis Sinclair, a very gallant-looking fellow, who sails his own 
boat from Wick, and takes his own venture. Bounding over the waves 
with a good capful of wind, they had left the shore and beetling cliffs 
far behind them ; they reached their fishing-ground, where they 
tacked up and down, eagerly watching for the oily phosphorescent 
gleam which is indicative of herrings. “ At last, after a lengthened 
cruise,” he says, “ our commander, who had been silent for half an 
hour, jumped up and called to action. ‘ Up, men, and at them !’ was 
the order of the night. The preparations for shooting the nets at 
once began by lowering sail. Surrounding ns on all sides was to be 
seen a moving world of boats; many with sails down, their nets 
floating in the water, and their crews at rest. Others wero still 
flitting uneasily about, their skippers, like our own, anxious to shoot in 
the right place. By-and-by we were ready ; the sucker goes splash 
into the water; the * dog,’ a large inflated bladder to mark the far end 
of the train, is heaved overboard, and the nets, breadth after breadth, 
follow as fast as the men can pay them out, till the immense train is 
all in the water, forming a perforated wall a mile long, and many feet 
in depth ; the ‘ dog ’ and the marking bladder floating and dipping in 
long zigzag lines, reminding one of the imaginary coils of the great 
sea serpent. After three hours of quietude beneath a beautiful sky, 
the stars — - 
* The eternal orbs that beautify the night ’ — 
began to pale their fires, and, the grey dawn appearing, indicated that 
it was time to take stock. We found that tho boat had floated quietly 
with the tide till we were a long distance from the harbour. The 
skipper had a presentiment that there were fish in his net ; and the 
bobbing down of a few of the bladders made it almost a certainty, and 
he resolved to examine the drifts. By means of the swing rope the 
boat was hauled up to the nets. ‘ Hurrah !’ exclaimed Murdoch of 
Skye; ‘there’s a lot of fish, skipper, and no mistake.’ Murdoch’s 
news was true ; our nets were silvery with herrings — so laden, in fact, 
that it took a long time to haul them in. It was a beautiful sight to 
