The Silver Darlings Read Online Free Page A

Paradise.” Ian rowed away the three fathoms of rope—all they had—by which they would swing to the net as to an anchor. Tormad made fast. The oars were shipped. And now it was food.
    Everything was going better than they had expected. They could easily make hand-line tackle—so long as they had the line. They talked away, full of hope, as they munched their dark-brown bere scones and drank their milk. When they had finished eating, they started at the lines again, and there was a short spell in the half-light when they caught large-sized haddock as quickly as they could haul them in. Then everything went very quiet and the darkness came down—or as much darkness as they would have on that northern summer night. They were tired now, for they hadn’t had much sleep the last two nights, what with going to Golspie and bringing the boat back along the shore and the excitement of the whole strange venture. They would stretch themselves out between the timbers as best they could. This they did, and above them they saw the stars, and under them they felt the sea rise and fall.
    “Does it never go quiet at all?” asked Ian.
    “Never,” said Tormad.
    “A strange thing, that,” said Ronnie. “Never.”
    Their voices grew quiet and full of wonder and a warm friendliness. They told one another all the queer things they ever heard about the sea. After a time Ronnie murmured , “I think Torquil has fallen asleep.” Torquil muttered vaguely. They all closed their eyes. It seemed to them that they never really fell asleep, though their thoughts were like dreams going their own way. Every now and again one of them stirred; but for long spells they breathed heavily. The stars were gone, when Ronnie opened his eyes wide, looked about him and sat up. It was chilly and the surface of the water dark in an air of wind, but to the north-east, beyond the distant rim of the sea,was the white light of morning. And then, out from Berriedale Head, he saw a ship with a light, like a small star, over her. The star disappeared as he gazed. He wakened Tormad with his hand.
    They all sat up, with little shudders of cold, and looked at the ship. Canvas was now breaking out both behind and in front of her high mast. “She’ll be a merchant ship,” said Tormad, and turned to see what the herring boats were doing. He was surprised to find that already they were beginning to leave the ground. They couldn’t have much herring, surely. Then his face opened in dismay. “The piper’s bag is gone!” he cried. There was no sign of the corks. He stumbled aft and caught the swing-rope. They leaned over the sides. As Tormad hauled strongly, the piper’s bag appeared, bobbing and breaking the surface. And then their eyes widened and their breath stopped. Tormad began appealing softly to the God of their fathers. Then his voice cleared and rose. “It’s herring, boys! Herring ! Herring!” The net was so full of herring that it had pulled the floats under the surface, all except the end buoy, which was half submerged.
    They forgot all about the ship; they forgot everything, except the herrings, the lithe silver fish, the swift flashing ones, hundreds and thousands of them, the silver darlings. No moment like this had ever come to them in their lives. They were drunk with the excitement and staggered freely about the boat. Tormad took to shouting orders. The wind had changed and, growing steady, was throwing them a little on the net. “Keep her off,” shouted Tormad. “Take the oars, Ian. The foot-rope, Ronnie.” Tormad was now pulling on the back-rope with all his strength, but could only lift the net inch by inch. But already herring were tumbling into the boat, for Torquil was nimble and Ronnie persuasive. “Take it easy,” said Ronnie, seeing the congestion in Tormad’s neck. “Take it easy, or the whole net may tear away. We’ve plenty of time, boys.” “Don’t be losing them,” grunted Tormad, his heel against the sternpost. “Take