At the “skreigh” of day, or, in plain English, at dawn, John’s boat, well laden, sailed slowly tack and half tack, for the wind was still off the shore, towards the land.
And a happy woman was Eppie when she saw the haul which, as she phrased it, “the Lord had sent them.”
After an excellent breakfast Sandie went to bed, and dreamt he was wandering, fishing-rod in hand, along the banks of the winding Don, with Maggie May by his side, and Tyro, the dog, an interesting spectator of the sport.
CHAPTER XI
SINKS BEFORE THE VERY EYES OF THOSE ON SHORE
Week after week the herring-fishery went by, and certainly John Menzies had no reason to complain of his want of success. Never a day passed that he did not send his hauls in barrels to the Southern market, and in all the fleet, this season, not a casualty had occurred as yet of a fatal character.
Once a shoal of porpoises had appeared in the bay, but by shouting, and the throwing of stones, the fishermen had succeeded in heading them away, and so the nets had been saved.
Sandie had not only settled down to his new life, but had become quite enamoured of it.
The sea was not always calm, however. Our hero told himself that he liked it best in its wayward moods. But there was more than one night when the wind blew so high, and the waves raged with such violence, that it would have been madness to have ventured out. Again, sometimes after they had launched and sailed away, under the most favouring auspices, shortly after midnight a gale would suddenly arise. Then would they have to draw in their nets as speedily as possible, and make at once for the distant harbour, feeling happy and lucky to get inside.
Sandie had a letter from Willie about every second day, and very cheerful epistles they were, just like Willie himself.
But these letters helped greatly to keep up Sandie’s spirits.