They found the little town already very busy indeed. All hands were getting their nets on board the great sturdy open boats, in which these hardy fishermen venture far to sea and encounter many a storm.
The boats have a bit of a close deck fore and aft, but all betwixt and between is a well. Here lie the nets, and here are stowed the herring when caught.
Our heroes found the village swarming with foreigners, in the shape of men from the far Hebrides, especially Skye, who had come to join the fishery, and if possible to make a little money to carry them on for another year.
If the fishing should be good, there was no doubt about making money, for they were not only paid good wages, but a certain percentage on the takes or crans.
There was no great hurry, so Willie and Sandie sauntered about for hours, looking at the strange and busy scene, which was so unlike anything they had ever witnessed before.
Not only young men had swarmed into the town, but modest-looking young lassies too. These latter would be employed in gutting the herring, in salting them, and packing them in barrels for the Southern markets.
And the coopers or barrel-makers were very busy indeed already, and had been so for weeks; their fires burned in every direction, while the clanging of their hammers was incessant.
Our heroes found themselves at last at a cosy little inn.
Yes, they could have dinner, nice new potatoes, fresh butter, and fresh herrings and milk. “Hurrah!” cried Willie, “what could be better?” So they dined delectably.