The twilight deepened as they rounded Niarbyl Point and left the Calf Islet on their lee, with Cronte-nay-Ivey-Lhaa towering into the gloomy sky. When they sailed through Fleshwick Bay the night gradually darkened, and they saw nothing of Ennyn Mooar. But the heavens lightened again and glittered with stars, and when they brought the lugger head to the wind in six fathoms of water outside Port Erin, the moon had risen behind Brada, and the steep and rugged headland showed clear against the sky. "Have you found the herring on this ground at the same time in former seasons?" asked Christian of Kisseck. "Not for seven years." "Then why try now?" "See the gull there. She's skipper to-night. She's showing us the fish." And one after another the fleet brought to about them. Danny Fayle had been leaning over the bow, and occasionally rapping with a stick at the timbers near the water. "Any signs?" shouted Kisseck. "Ay," said Danny, "the mar-fire's risin'." The wind had dropped, and luminous patches of phosphorescent light in the water were showing Danny that the herring were stirring. "Let's make a shot; up with the gear," said Kisseck; and preparations were made for shooting the nets over the quarter. "Davy Cain (the mate), you see to the lint. Tommy Tear, look after the corks. Danny--where's that lad?--look to the seizings; d'ye hear?" Then the nets were hauled from below and passed over a bank board placed between the hatchway and the top of the bulwark. Davy and Tommy shot the gear, and as the seizings came up, Danny ran aft and made them fast to the warp near the taffrail. When the nets were all paid out, every net in the drift being tied to the next, and a solid wall of meshes nine feet deep had been swept away for half a mile behind them, Kisseck shouted, "Down with the sheets." The sails were taken in, the mainmast--made to lower backward--was dropped, and only the drift-mizzen was left to keep the boat's head to the wind. "Up with the light there," shouted Kisseck. On hearing this Danny popped his head out of the hatchways. "Ah! to be sure, that lad's never ready. Gerr out of that, quick." Danny took a lantern and fixed it on the top of the mitch-board. Then vessel and nets drifted together. Christian and the skipper went below. It was now a calm, clear night, with just light enough to show two or three of the buoys on the back of the first net as they floated under water. The skipper had not mistaken his ground. Large white patches came moving out of the surrounding pavement of deep black, lightened only with the occasional image of a star where the vanishing ripples left the sea smooth. Once or twice countless faint popping sounds were heard, and minute points of silver were seen in the water around. The herrings were at play about them. Shoals on shoals were breaking the sea into glistening foam. After an hour had passed, Kisseck popped his head out of the hatchways, and cried, "Try the look-on."