The Boy With the U. S. Fisheries Part 46

The evening of the third day had come before Colin gained any idea as to the purpose of this trip. He saw that it would be no use asking questions, and waited until he should be told what he was to do. In the meantime, he was enjoying the sail immensely, for the craft seemed instinct with life, and Colin learned from the other fishermen aboard that she was one of the fastest vessels out of Gloucester. Colin had settled himself under the blankets for the night and just dropped off to sleep when there came a hail from the masthead.

"Fish! Lyin' nor'-nor'-east."

Every man stirred in his bunk, but none made a move. Colin, who had wakened instantly with muscles tense and ready to spring out, followed the example of the others round him, and waited. Indeed he dropped off to sleep again, when the voice of the captain came from the wheel:

"Pa.s.s the word to oil up."

There was no need to say "Pa.s.s the word," for every man below heard the order, and tumbled up at once, sliding into sea-boots, oilskins, and sou'westers. Most of the men lighted a pipe, and one or two took a 'mug-up' from the coffee-kettle. Evidently the mackerel were not far away, for in less than five minutes the captain called again:

"All on deck!"

Up the ladder went the fishermen with a rush. There was not a star visible, and the night was as black as though the ship were plunging into a cave. Even the phosph.o.r.escence or 'fire' at the ship's bow was not especially brilliant, and Colin tumbled over half a dozen different things in as many yards on deck, while only the fact that he had sea-boots on saved him from barking his shins on the fore-hatch.

"Drop over the dory, haul up the boat!"

The commands came ringing out sharply. Colin had been aboard a man-of-war, but there was no such discipline as this. The words were scarcely spoken, when four of the men had the dory over the starboard rail, while eight of the men tailed on to the painter of the seine-boat and brought it to the port fore-rigging.

"Tops'l halyards. Lively now!"

With a rattle and whir the two great sails went soaring up in the darkness, and the _Shiner_ leaped forward, her lee rail almost flush to the sea.

"She's a great boat," said Colin to one of the men near him; "I shouldn't have thought she could have stood the tops'ls."

The fisherman looked at him.

"Jerry Fitzgerald is the skipper o' this craft," he said, "an' he's got the reputation o' carryin' all canvas in a full gale. See the lights around us?"

"I saw one or two," Colin answered. "Other seiners?"

"O' course, an' do you think Jerry's goin' to lose a chance o' the school because o' canvas? Wait a bit an' you'll see!"

Not a minute had pa.s.sed by before another order came.

"Give her the stays'l. Run up the balloon, too!"

Colin gasped, but he lent a hand. As the _Shiner_ felt the added sail she poked her nose in and took the water green. But the narrow build forward threw off the load, and she rose like a duck. The seiner was carrying a fearful press of sail, but she stood up stiffly under it, all the red and green lights of the other seiners falling astern; it was evident that the skipper meant to keep them there. Before long, occasional flashes of light, being the phosph.o.r.escence churned up by the tails of a pod of mackerel, could be seen from the deck.

"Into the boat!" cried the skipper.

For just a second Colin hesitated, but he saw Mr. Roote go into the seine-boat and he followed immediately. The seine-master, who had been aloft, came down with a rush. Colin could hear the rustle of the oilskins as he partly touched the stays, but he landed on the deck with a 'thump' as great as though he had leaped down the last ten feet. The seine-boat was dropping astern as fast as one of the crew, who remained on deck, could pay out the painter, but the seine-master gave no heed to the rapid departure of the boat. He took half a dozen quick steps to the stern and leaped over the quarter, judging the distance so accurately that he landed fair on the foremost thwart of the seine-boat as she dropped astern, a couple of the men catching him as he jumped.

"Easy on the painter!" he cried. Then, next moment:

"Stand by the dory," as the smaller of the boats, with two men aboard, came sliding by and was almost thrown on top of the seine-boat by a cross-sea.

There came a fire of orders from the captain, which Colin could hardly follow, and he wondered how the helmsman and one man on deck could keep up with them.

"Ease off the main-sheet! Dave,"--that was the man at the wheel,--"swing her away a bit. Steady there! Slack the foretops'l and stays'l halyards.

Lively now! Jibe her over, Dave! Down with the balloon, there! Quick as the Lord'll let you! Over she comes! Stand by in the boat and dory! Keep her down, Dave! Down, man, down! It's a good school."

There was a moment's pause.

"You in the boat and dory?"

"All ready, sir," answered the seine-master.

"Ready, dory?"

"All ready."

"Hard up, Dave! Steady a little. A little! Don't you know what a little is? Ready in the boat, there! Steady with that wheel! Now you've got her. You in the boat, there. Got that new-fangled net ready?"

"Ready," cried the statistician shortly. Then Colin understood. The trip was for the purpose of testing out a new net devised by the Bureau and the Fisheries man was a net expert. No wonder he knew a boat!

"Stand by the boat. Ready, the dory! When I give the word! Hold on a bit with the painter! Now let her go! You in the dory there, show your lantern! All your own way now!"

Colin tugged at his oar. Never, in all his experience in rowing, had he tackled anything like an oar of that size, but he pulled for all he was worth, and a glow ran through him to feel that he was holding up his end. The light dory with two men aboard, came racing after them. It was nearly a half-mile pull before the seine-master cried:

"Over with the buoy!"

And the buoy was tossed overboard for the dory to pick up and hold to windward.

Then the silent Fisheries officer got busy. Without a word, he reached for the net. It was made of a lighter twine than customary, and not thickly tarred, having also different corks to the usual type, and sinkers all over the net. It looked like a fearfully complicated thing to handle and Roote was a small man, but that net went flying out as though tossed by a giant.

"You're a jim-dandy with the twine, all right," said the seine-master admiringly. He turned to the rowers, "Put your backs into it, boys," he said; "drive her for all you know how. We've got to give this new contraption a fair chance."

"How much net out now, sir?" he asked the statistician in a few minutes.

"Quarter of a mile," was the reply.

"Shall we close in then, eh?"

"You'd better."

The seine-master, feeling that the school of mackerel had been inclosed, turned the seine-boat towards the dory and, under the powerful arms of the fishermen, the circle was soon completed. It was a perfect set.

The wind had been rising rapidly, and just as the seine-boat reached the dory a sharp rain squall struck. But the cry was, "Purse up!" for until a seine is partly pursed up, there is no telling whether the fish are really in or not. For a moment, however, it was almost impossible to purse up, the wind and rain were beating so savagely.

"Pull!" said Roote, suiting the action to the word, and all hands joined him. The net was light, far lighter than the old fishermen's nets, and there was more than one audible comment to the effect that the net would break, and that it was too bad they hadn't one of the old-style nets around the school, but the pursing in continued, and the net showed no signs of breakage. Presently first one, then another, fish flashed above the water, and a minute later the shine of the mackerel showed, and then the whole school, including thousands of fish, rose in a body to the surface, beating the water with their forked tails, and threshing in mad confusion from side to side.

The seine-master turned to the Fisheries official with a good deal of concern.

"That's a big haul," he said; "will your net stand it?"

There was no hesitation in the reply.

"Yes," he said.

"Then I'm willin' to admit," said the seine-master, "that you win. I'd never ha' believed that you could get as big a net as light as that an'