luable discovery of his.

Rob MacNicol was doubtful; for he had never heard of this thing before;
but he could not resist the importunities of the old half-witted
creature. They pulled in and anchored the punt; then they set forth
again, rowing slowly as the light faded out of the sky, and keeping a
watch all around on the almost glassy seas.

There was no sign of any herring; no solan geese sweeping down; no
breaking of the water; and none of the other boats, so far as they
could make out, had as yet shot their nets. The night was coming on,
and they were far away from Erisaig; but still old Sandy kept up his
watch, studying the surface of the water, as if he expected to find
pearls floating there. And at last, in great excitement, he grasped
Rob's arm. Leaning over the side of the boat, they could just make out
in the dusk a great quantity of minute air-bubbles rising to the
surface of the sea.

'Put some stones along with the sinkers, Rob,' the old man said in a
whisper, as if he were afraid of the herring hearing; 'go deep, deep,
deep.'

Well, they quietly let out the seemingly interminable drift-net as they
pulled gently along, and when that was accomplished they took in the
long oars again. Nicol lit up the little stove, and proceeded to boil
the tea. The bundle containing their supper was opened, and Sandy had
his share and his can of tea like the others.

They had a long time of waiting to get over through the still summer
night, but still Rob was strangely excited, wondering whether Sandy had
really, in pottering about, discovered a new indication of the
whereabouts of the herring, or whether he was to go back to Erisaig in
the morning with empty nets. There was another thing too. Had he
shown himself too credulous before his companions? Had he done right
in listening to what might be only a foolish tale? The others began to
doze off; Rob not. He did not sleep a wink all night.

Well, to let out a long drift-net, which sometimes goes as deep as
fifteen fathoms, is an easy affair, but to haul it in again is a sore
task; and when it happens to be laden, and heavily-laden, with
silver-gleaming fish, that is a break-back business for four young
lads. But there is such a thing as the nervous, eager, joyous,
strength of success; and if you are hauling in yard after yard of a
dripping net, only to find the brown meshes all bestarred with the
silver herring,--then even young lads can work like men.