But if you are hauling in yard after yard of a dripping net, only
to find the brown meshes starred at every point with the shining
silver of the herring, then even young lads can work like men.
Sandy was laughing all the while.
"Rob, my man, what think you of the air-bubbles now? Maybe Daft
Sandy is not so daft after all. And do you think I would go and
tell any one but yourself, Rob?"
Rob could not speak; he was breathless. Nor was their work nearly
done when they had got in the net, with all its splendid silver
treasure. For as there was not a breath of wind, they had to set
to work to pull the heavy boat back to Erisaig. The gray dawn
gave way to a glowing sunrise; and when they at length reached
the quay, tired out with work and want of sleep, the people were
all about.
Mr. Bailie came along and shook hands with Rob, and congratulated
him; for it turned out that, while not another Erisaig boat had
that night got more than from two to three crans, the Mary Of
Argyle had ten crans--as good herring as ever were got out of
Loch Scrone.
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