trosities of cruelty which were perpetrated. Fancy a boy bending
over a line and baiting hooks for dear life while the blood from a
fearful scalp wound drained his veins till he fainted. The lad came to
in four hours; had he died he would have been quietly reported as washed
overboard. If you can stand a few hours of talk from an old smacksman
you may hear a sombre litany of horror. Those fishers are, physically,
the flower of our race, and many of them have the noblest moral
qualities. Knowing what I do of the old days, I wonder that the men are
any better than desperate savages.

Jim Billings endured the bitterest hardships that could befall an
apprentice. For six years he was not allowed to have a bed, for that
luxury was generally denied to boys. He secured a piece of old netting,
and he used to sleep on that until it became rotten by reason of the
salt water which drained from his clothes. On mad winter nights, when
the sea came hurling along, and crashed thunderously on the decks, the
smack tugged and lunged at her trawl. All round her the dark water
boiled and roared, and the blast shrieked through the cordage with
hollow tremors. That One who rideth on the wings of the wind lashed the
dark sea into aimless fury, and the men on deck clung where they could
as the smothering waves broke and seethed in wild eddies over the
reeling vessel. At midnight the sleepers below heard the cry, "Haul, O!
haul, haul, haul!" and they staggered to their feet in the reeking den
of a cabin.

"Does it rain?"

"No, it snows."

That was the fragment of dialogue which passed pretty often. Then the
skipper inquired, "Do you want any cinder ashes?" The ashes were spread
on the treacherous deck; the bars were fixed in the capstan, and the
crew tramped on their chill round. Men often fell asleep at their dreary
work, and walked on mechanically; sometimes the struggle lasted for an
hour or two, until strong fellows were ready to lie down, and over the
straining gang the icy wind roared and the piercing drift flew in
vicious streams. When the big beam and the slimy net came to hand the
worst of the work began; it often happened that a man who ran against a
shipmate was obliged to say, "Who's that?" so dense was the darkness;
and yet amid that impenetrable gloom the intricate gear had to be
handled with certainty, and when the living avalanche of fish flowed
from the great bag, it was necessary to kill, clean, and sort them in
the dark.