The village of Methlin was a very small one from a fisherman's point of view; but though the boats were few, they were manned by hearts as brave as ever dared to face the stormy ocean. Nor were the fishermen idlers or laggards. They did not depend on the herring season for a living—they found fish all the year round if it were possible to go out; then there were always lobsters and crabs to be caught in the cage or creel. The haddocks were smoked, and cod were salted. There was a town about twenty miles from the village, and here there was a ready market for all the produce of this industrious people. Instead of loitering about the street corners on days when fishing was an impossibility, the men found plenty to do in their gardens, which were kept in great perfection, or on their little crofts of an acre or two each in extent.
If ever a stray tourist or strolling artist came to Methlin, he was at once struck by the beauty of the gardens and the quaintness of the cottages.
On the whole I am rather proud of my wee village, and do not hesitate to say it was unique, and of its kind quite idylic.
Next to Eean and Eppie, I'm not quite sure that honest Bunko did not rank as the greatest favourite after the adventure I am now going to describe.
I should state, to begin with, that Scottish fishing boats are not like those used, say, at Yarmouth and in England generally; these latter are decked over, and therefore fit to stop a week at sea; the Scotch are open all amidships, and, though very strong and high in the free-board, would quickly fill and perish in a sea-way with a strong gale blowing.
But the hardy Scot, like the Viking of old, takes his life in his hand, and boldly ventures far to sea in these boats; yet, woe is me! never a season passes that widows and children are not left to weep and mourn for dear husbands and fathers they ne'er will see again in this world beneath.
It was in the autumn time, when the corn in the fields was ripening yellow, when the leaves on the birchen trees were growing darker and darker, and when almost every bird save the robin and skite had ceased to sing, that there came a boat into Methlin Bay reporting fish to be found in immense shoals a goodly way to the nor'ard and west. On board this boat was a wealth of silvery herrings, amply proving the truth of the boat-owner's words. He had called here to give the villagers a friendly hint.
What hurry, commotion, and excitement there were now! The men, women, and even the tiniest children were busy for a time; but soon this passed away, and there fell over the village that strange hush that only the women of wigwams in the Indian districts of America west, when their braves have gone on the warpath, know, or the wives of Scottish fisher-folk, when their husbands are hurried away to sea.
Eean had gone with the rest, and with him both Fred and Toddie, for the latter would not be denied.
The weather was to all appearance most propitious for deep-sea fishing, and everyone was cheerful and merry. "Why, Toddie, you coming with us!" said Eean's best hand. "Why we'll have luck, my little lass!"