"That's them, lad. That's the school o' mack'rel, and I shouldn't wonder if they come right on the flat rock sand."

"What--out of the water?"

"Out of the water? No. Not unless they are catched, and then they'll come out of the water fast enough."

"Look at that chap on the cliff!" cried d.i.c.k, as the man began waving what really were boughs of heather up and down.

"Yes, he's signalling away to them in the boat. He can see the school.

P'r'aps they can't; and he's telling 'em which way to row."

"But what are they going to do?" cried d.i.c.k.

"Do? Why, try and catch that school of mack'rel. Can't you see the seine?"

"What--the net?" said d.i.c.k.

"Yes; that's it--hundreds of yards of it. Can you see which way the school's going?"

"Right up to the head of the bay," replied Will.

"Then they are going over the sands, and the lads'll get them. Can't shoot a seine if there's rocks anywhere near," added Josh for the visitor's information. "Get the net torn, and the mack'rel would get out of the hole or under the bottom, where it rests on the rocks. You'd like to stop and see them shoot?"

"What--the mackerel?" said d.i.c.k.

"Yah! No; the net."

"Shoot it?" said d.i.c.k.

"Yes; shoot it over into the sea."

"Oh! I understand," said d.i.c.k; "but they shoot rubbish."

"Oh, they shoot rubbish, do they?" said Josh.

"Yes, about London," replied d.i.c.k. "Look how he's waving his arms about."

"Yes. School's going off another way. P'r'aps they mayn't get a chance to shoot, for the school may go out to sea."

"Let's row close up. I want to see," cried d.i.c.k.

"Nay, nay; we might be frightening the fish. Let's wait and see first, and if they surround 'em then we'll go close up. You sit still and watch."

The scene was worth watching on that bright morning, with the blue sky above, the glittering sea below, the village nestling in the cliffs, with its chimneys sending up their columns of smoke into the clear air; and at the foot of the cliff, as if seeking its protection, lay the little fishing fleet, with its brown sails giving warmth and colour to as bonny an English landscape as could well be seen. There up aloft, where the hill cliff was purple and gold and grey with heath and furze and crag, was the man with the bushes, signalling to his comrades in the boat, which seemed to be crawling slowly along, the piled-up filmy brown net, lying in a clumsy heap, so it seemed, but really in carefully laid-out folds, with every rope in place ready for the work to be done.

Uncle Abram's boat was allowed to drift with the current as its three occupants watched the proceedings, Will with the more interest that his uncle had a share in the seine, that is to say, he found so many score yards of which its length was composed, and consequently would take his proportion of the profits if the mackerel were caught.

"She's going right for the sands," cried Josh excitedly. "They'll have a fine haul. See 'em, lad--see 'em?"

"Yes, I can see the dark ripple of the water gradually going along,"

said d.i.c.k eagerly. "Oh, I do wish we were nearer!"

"You'll be near enough, lad, when the seine gets to work. Perhaps we shall have to be farther away. Look at 'em; how pretty they come! And you, Will, are always thinking about mines, and stones, and holes in the earth, when you've got a sight like that before you, boy. Eh! but I'm ashamed of you!"

Will laughed and stood watching the school, and answering d.i.c.k's questions.

"What are they going to do? Wait and you'll see."

"Oh, no! the fish don't run their heads through these nets and get caught by the gills. Those are drift-nets. This is a seine, and made with smaller meshes. It's stronger, too, and has a rope top and bottom.

Now, look, they're getting close enough in. They daren't go any nearer for fear of frightening the fish. Now, see, they're beginning to shoot the net."

For the first time d.i.c.k saw that there was a little boat with the big one, and that this little boat had two men in it, who seemed to be stopping in one place, while the big boat was being rowed away from them. Then over the stern a couple of men were pa.s.sing what seemed to be an enormous brown rope, which they kept shaking as it went over and down into the sea, sinking at once all but what looked like a row of dots on the water right away to the little boat, which now seemed to be connected with the big one by the row of dots.

"That's the seine-net they're shooting overboard," said Will. "It has corks all along the top, and these keep the top edge level with the water, while all the rest sinks right down to the bottom. It's shallow enough over the sands here for the net to touch the bottom."

"I see!" cried d.i.c.k excitedly. "And they are going to row right round the shoal of fish and make a regular fence of net about them, so as they can't get away."

"A mussy me!" cried Josh smiling. "Why, I'm getting quite proud o' you, Master d.i.c.k. You might ha' been born a fisherman."

"But will the net be long enough to go right round?" said d.i.c.k.

"No, perhaps not; but they'll manage that if they're lucky."

The scene was exciting enough to chain the interest of those in the boat, while quite a crowd gathered on the cliff to witness the capture-- one which meant money and support to a good many families; for there would be basketing and carting to the far-off station, to send the take to the big towns, if a take it should prove to be. And so all watched as the large boat was rowed steadily, its heap of net growing lower, and the row of dot-like corks that trailed from behind getting longer and longer, and gradually taking the shape of a half-moon.

The little boat remained nearly stationary, only drawing a trifle towards where d.i.c.k and his companions were; but the big boat continued its course, and so did the shoal of mackerel, making a beautiful ripple on the surface, that seemed as changeful as the ripple marks on their own backs, and in happy unconsciousness of the fact that their way back to sea was being steadily shut off, and that there were baskets getting ready, and horses being fed to bear them to the train, so that the next morning they would be glittering on stalls in busy towns both far and near.

It was a long but carefully-executed piece of work, the large boat making a very wide circuit, so as not to alarm the fish, now about the centre of a semicircle of net.

"But suppose the net should be twisted," said d.i.c.k excitedly, "and not reach the bottom--what then?"

"Then when the mackerel were scared they'd swim about and find the hole, and go through it like the tide between a couple of rocks," replied Will. "But the men wouldn't let the net go down twisted; they're too used to shooting it."

"All out now," said Josh at last. "They'll lose the school if they don't mind. Look yonder."

d.i.c.k glanced in the direction indicated, and saw that the man on the cliff was now telegraphing wildly with his boughs, and the men in the seine-boat seemed to let out a long rope, for there was a good s.p.a.ce between them and the row of corks.

The two men in the little boat seemed to do the same, and as the two boats were some distance to right and left of d.i.c.k and his companions, it seemed as if they meant to come up close with them.

"Josh! Josh! the school's heading this way," cried Will; "they'll lose 'em."

Josh jumped down into the seat, seized the oars, and began to row steadily right across the head of the ripple, just as a hail came first from the big boat and then from the small.

Josh rowed about twenty or thirty yards, and then began to back water, going over the ground again, while the big and little boats steadily rowed on.

"They're gone, Josh!" cried Will, as the ripple on the surface suddenly ceased.

"Maybe they'll come up again, my lad," said Josh. "I'll keep on," and he went on rowing first towards the large boat, then towards the small, as they slowly toiled on, trying to get nearer to each other and Uncle Abram's boat, which was just about intermediate.