reached, and the crews of both boats get on board one, the cable of which being shifted from the bow to one end of the midship thwart, she swings broadside on, allowing room for four men to haul the head and foot lines at once, whilst a fifth thrusts down an oar continually to drive back the Sand-Eels to the bag of the net. The greater part of the seine having now been boated, the Sand-Eels are seen rushing to and fro in a dark, plum-coloured cloud; and it is very remarkable to observe how the whole shoal turns at one and the same time, as if the act were one of instantaneous volition common to all. The bag of the net is now gathered up closely, and the fishermen hand in their Sand-Eel baskets to be filled in turn, our own being one of the first to receive its quantum of this truly splendid bait. The Sand-Eel basket is secured, and, with our canvas again set, we are off for our fishing ground. At length we reach the Rousse de Mer (a large insulated rock), and having seen the cable clear I make fast the end on the crown of the anchor, and stop the cable down to the ring with a single turn of rope-yarn, as the bottom is of a somewhat mixed character; by this precaution we may clear the anchor if we hook a rock. We find one or two boats on the ground, and being personally known to all in the neighbourhood, generally give them a greeting. 'Ky b'yottong!' (quel beau temps !) exclaims my friend, addressing an old fisherman in the nearest boat who has reversed his sou'-wester, bringing the fantail flap forward over his os frontis as an additional protection from the sun, which has lately burst out with great fervour. As-tu d'pison?' (as-tu du poisson?)-'Pas grammong, m'sieur, pas grammong' (pas grandement, monsieur); ‘nous avons hallai dow ou tray,' we have hauled two or three-holding up a fine Pollack of about 10 lbs. weight. Having anchored, we take a dozen or so of the Sand-Eels out of the basket and place them in the boat's bailer, half filled with water, baiting our lines by passing the point of the hook down the throat and out of the gills, then lightly hooking the bait through the skin of the throat just sufficiently to fix the hook; at the same time taking care not to injure the fish, by holding it as carefully as possible. We have here some seven fathoms of water with a nice stream of tide running, and as the lines stray out astern at about an angle of 45 degrees we pay out rather more than the depth of the water, namely, five leads on the lighter lines at the stern, and four on those amidships, there being intervals of two fathoms between the leads. As I am in the midship part of the boat I take the line of the port side in my hand, and having a bite, hook my fish and haul him in, rebait my hook and put out again, when rattle goes my lead and line on the other side of the boat, and beginning to haul I find I have rather a larger fish, for he makes several violent tugs, and I find it necessary to give a little line. I contrive, however, to turn him as he comes 1.pidly up, and when he is alongside I dip him up in a short-handled landing net, the gaff being chiefly reserved for extra large fish. They are now coming along faster, and it is as much as we can do to tend and fresh bait the hooks. 'More bait, please,' I exclaim, throwing overboard on the line the last in my bailer, and handing it aft to my friend for a fresh supply, who proceeds to replenish from the basket under the stern; but, whilst thus occupied, whizz, rattle, goes his line, and dropping the basket he turns quickly to seize it, but, unmindful of the other little bucket containing his own bait, knocks it over with his knee, and the little silvery fish are all scattered over the stern-sheets. Meanwhile, as there is evidently a weighty fish on the line, I glance round to see the gaff handy. The fish struggles violently, and it becomes necessary to veer out some of the line; he is, however, soon turned, and comes into view through the clear water, his wide side showing yellow as he struggles head to tide, but to no purpose, for as my friend breaks his sheer once more, he is brought to the surface alongside, and inserting the gaff under his gills, he is safely taken in and done for. The fish proves to be nearly a yard long, and weighs full 12 lbs. This will be a fellow for boiling; we therefore decide on hanging him up with a lump of salt in his head, for with some oyster sauce he'll eat like a Cod-fish. The tide now began to run considerably stronger, and more length on the lines was requisite; I therefore prepared to 'rig a soldier.' A soldier-line is one of two-stranded hemp-twine, having for a sinker a two-pound Mackerel plummet, and is made fast to a strong flexible stick about two feet long, which is stuck into one of the thowl-pin holes in the midship part of the boat, that is to say, in front of the drift lines. With this line I chiefly fished during the strength of the tide, substituting it for one of the lighter ones, with fair success; but when it slackened I reeled it up and put out the drift line as before. But what is this on my line which hauls as dead as if I had hooked a weed? I hope it's a Dory! This it turned out to be, and I desired my friend to get ready the hand-net, for it often happens that Dories are taken without being hooked at all, but by swallowing a small fish which has previously taken the bait. It is therefore always well to be prepared, and nothing is better than a little handnet, in which our Dory was dipped up, testifying his disapprobation of his entrance into a foreign element by two grunts as he was placed in the basket. 'I think we had better shorten up,' I observed, 'as the stream of tide is fast decreasing, or we shall be hooking up in the long ore weed.' On trying my line, however, I found that the hook was already fast in the uneven bottom. I tried jerking and hauling by turns, but it was of no avail, and putting on a steady strain, I got free, but with the loss of the two lengths of double gut, which form the hook links. Two or three minutes, however, served to repair damages, and I was soon at work again. 'Suppose we put out a light line,' my friend observed; 'I think we may get a Gar-fish or two on the turning round of the tide.' I accordingly baited a line, without any lead on it, and paid out about ten fathoms. Here I made fast a loose thowlpin, and then secured the end to the stern ring-bolt, leaving about four or five fathoms of slack line. This line had not been out long before the thowl-pin went overboard with a violent surge, and my friend found the bait had been seized by a good-sized fish, which, after a little humouring, was brought to boat, and weighed about 5 lbs. Four others, all of fair size, followed on this line, and a couple of Long-Noses also, after robbing us of numerous Sand-Eels. The tide is now dead slack, and the lines are perpendicular. 'Il faut tracher' (I must whiff) observes a fisherman in a neighbouring boat; and, having wound up all his lines save one, gets up his anchor, and shipping one of his oars in the sculling hole, prepares to whiff, putting out his single line, and sculling along with steady determination to make the most of the slack tide. We, on our part, wind in all our lines save two, being two of us in the boat, and, getting up the anchor, I take the sculls and pull leisurely along, when we pick up half a dozen more; but a nice breeze springing up it becomes inconvenient to whiff any longer, and we make up our minds to return. We therefore wind up our drift-lines, the mast is stepped, sail hoisted, and we head for the harbour. Putting out a couple of Mackerel-lines, we pick up one of these fish (three we took previously on our outward trip), and are only about a quarter of an hour returning, for the inset of the flood is made strongly. On landing we carry our panniers up the beach, and emptying them on the turf, survey our catch, which consists of Mackerel, Pollack, Gar-fish, and the Dory, weighing in all about 50 lbs., the Pollack, as is commonly the case, predominating in number, and varying in size more than either of the other kinds. Streaming for Pollack is a kind of drift-line fishing which has been followed in Cornwall time out of mind with much success, and is next in efficiency to drift-line fishing with the living Sand-Eel. Its chief feature is a long snood of five fathoms on a stout Whiting or Conger line, and a stout hook, No. 7 size, p. 210. Three lines can be used from one boat, the first line with no lead, the second with a lead of lb., the third with a lead of 1 lb., of boat shape, all with a five-fathom snood. Being thus of different weights, the lines will stray out at different angles, and thus keep clear of each other. Bait, half the side of a Pilchard, a piece of Mackerel four inches long, or half the side of a Chad or small Bream scaled. The snood as hereafter described for whiffing Cornish fashion (p. 81). Anchor on rocky ground, sound the bottom, and haul up sufficiently to keep the hook clear of the ground. Hook the bait on by the small end, and fish in an easy tide. In the offing the largest Pollack are taken in this manner, from 100 to 350 lbs. in a day's fishing. It is usual to make fast the lines to another boat lead, sufficiently heavy to prevent the line dragging it overboard, which happens only when a fish seizes the bait and draws your attention by the splash of the lead in the water if you are engaged with the other lines. WHIFFING is the process of towing a line lightly leaded, or without lead, after a boat sailing slowly, or gently pulling, or else sculling with an oar, in a semicircular notch in the stern or transomboard. In lake and river-fishing it is termed trailing. Lines for Whiffing. The pipe-lead horse-hair lines are well adapted for whiffing, but as they are so much more expensive than hemp or flax lines, and from constantly passing over rocky ground are liable to hook the bottom, when breakage often results, I advise my readers to reserve them for drift-line fishing, unless in very quiet weather when whiffing under oars. A very useful line for whiffing is a 12-fathom Mackerel line of the double Bridport make, as manufactured for Guernsey, with a 4-fathom snood of the same make, and a 5 oz. lead. These lines being two-stranded rarely become entangled, and are yearly becoming more known and appreciated (fig. 11, p. 48, No. 4). They are usually of flax, but there is no objection to twisting up the hemp snooding when extra strong lines are required. Always from their twist retaining a considerable amount of stiffness, they may be used either dressed or not. The end of the snood consists of two lengths of double twisted gut with a hook, No. 11 in the cut of hooks (fig. 63, p. 211), the hook being first provided with an eye of fine snooding tied on Nottingham fashion, which gives the gut much better chance in hooking a large fish, than if whipped directly on to the hook. For whiffing under oars near the shore a lead |