shoal, at night. Corks
or bladders are fastened to the upper edge of the nets. Of course they
are all mended and made ready before the vessels reach the fishing
grounds. It is not easy to know where to shoot the nets; all the skill
and knowledge of the fisherman are needed to locate the shoals, and,
without this knowledge, he would come home with an empty vessel. Even as
it is, he sometimes catches no more fish than would fill his hat.

A sharp look-out is kept. An oily gleam in the sea tells the knowing
fisherman that the shoal is there; or he may see a Gull swoop down and
carry off a Herring. Then the nets are put out in the path of the shoal.
A big fleet of fishing vessels may let down a thousand miles of nets!

The Herrings, not seeing the fine wall of net, swim into it. Now the
openings in the net--the meshes--are one inch across, just wide enough
for the Herring to poke his head through. Once through, he is caught.
His gill-covers prevent him from drawing back again. Thousands of other
Herrings are held tight, all around him, and the rest of the shoal
scatters for the time being.

When the nets are hauled in, the fisherman beholds a mighty catch, a
sight to repay him for all his trouble. On being taken from its watery
home each Herring is dead almost at once--"as dead as a Herring."

Then comes the race to the market. Once in port, the vessels are rapidly
emptied. Hundreds of thousands of shining, silvery bodies are piled on
the quays--a sight worth seeing! An army of packers gets to work; and
the fresh fish are soon on the rail, speeding to the great fish markets,
on the way to your breakfast table.

The story of the Herring fishery is one of deep interest, and of great
importance. Millions of Herrings are caught every year, forming a cheap
and good food. Yet there are uncountable numbers left; and there is not
the least danger that our nets can ever empty the sea of this wonderful
little fish.

The Herring has several smaller relatives, all of them being excellent
food for us. The Pilchard is one of them; the Sardine is merely a young
Pilchard. Countless myriads of Pilchards visit the Cornish coast;
strangely enough, they frequent only this corner of our seas.

Another cousin of the Herring, the Sprat, is also a fine food, and so
cheap that poor people can enjoy it. Baby Herrings and baby Sprats are
caught in great quantity, and sold under the name of "Whitebait." It was
thought, at one time, that the Wh