o of fish. When this is disengaged the net
comes in more easily, and the fish are dropped like a silver cataract on
the wet deck.

One might imagine that there was rest for the fishermen now. Far from
it. The fish had to be "cleaned"--i.e. gutted and the superfluous
portions cut off and packed in boxes for the London market. The grey
light of a bleak winter morning dawned before the work was finished.
During the operation the third hand, Lively Dick, ran a fish-bone deeply
into his hand, and laid a foundation for future trouble.

It was noon before the trunks, or fish-boxes, were packed. Then the
little boat had to be launched over the side, loaded with fish, and
ferried to one of the steamers which ply daily and regularly between
Billingsgate and the fleets. Three men jumped into it and pushed off--a
mere cockle-shell on a heaving flood, now dancing on a wave-crest, now
lost to view in a water-valley.

"What's that?" said Whistler, as they pulled towards the steamer.
"Looks bigger than the or'nary mission-ships."

"Why, that must be the noo hospital-ship, the _Queen Victoria_,"
answered Lively Dick, glancing over his shoulder at a large vessel,
smack-rigged, which loomed up through the haze to leeward.

They had no time for further remark, for the great side of the steamer
was by that time frowning over them. It was dangerous work they had to
do. The steamer rolled heavily in the rough sea. The boat, among a
dozen other boats, was soon attached to her by a strong rope. Men had
to be athletes and acrobats in order to pass their fish-boxes from the
leaping and plunging boats to the deck of the rolling steamer. The
shouting and noise and bumping were tremendous. An awkward heave
occasionally sent a box into the sea amid oaths and laughter. Jim's
cargo was put safely on board, and the boat was about to cast off when a
heavier lurch than usual caused Black Whistler to stagger. To save
himself from plunging overboard he laid both hands on the gunwale of the
boat--a dangerous thing to do at any time when alongside of a vessel.
Before he could recover himself the boat went crashing against the
steamer's iron side and the fisherman's hands were crushed. He fell
back into the boat almost fainting with agony. No cry escaped him,
however. Lively Dick saw the blood streaming, and while his mate shoved
off the boat he wrapped a piece of canvas in a rough-and-ready fashion
round the quivering hands.

"I'm done