The sun went down, and a smart breeze rose off the land as the "Ben-my-Chree," with the fleet behind her, rounded Contrary Head, and crossed the two streams that flow there. For an hour afterward there was still light enough to see the coast-line curved into covelets and promontories, and to look for miles over the hills with their moles of gorse, and tussocks of lush grass. The twilight deepened as the fleet rounded Niarbyl Point, and left the islet on their lee, with Cronk-ny-Irey-Lhaa towering into the gloomy sky. When they sailed across Fleshwick Bay the night gradually darkened, and nothing was seen of Ennyn Mooar. But after an hour of darkness the heavens lightened again, and glistened with stars, and when old Billy Quilleash brought his boat head to the wind in six fathoms of water outside Port Erin, the moon had risen behind Bradda, and the rugged headland showed clear against the sky. One after another the boats and the fleet brought to about the "Ben-my-Chree." Dan asked old Billy if he had found the herrings on this ground at the same time in former seasons. "Not for seven years," said the old man. "Then why try now?" Billy stretched out his hand to where a flight of sea-gulls were dipping and sailing in the moonlight. "See the gull there?" he said. "She's skipper to-night; she's showing us the fish." Davy Fayle had been leaning over the bow, rapping with a stick at the timbers near the water's edge. "Any signs?" shouted Billy Quilleash. "Ay," said Davy, "the mar-fire's risin'." The wind had dropped, and luminous patches of phosphorescent light in the water were showing that the herrings were stirring. "Let's make a shot; up with the gear," said Quilleash, and preparations were made for shooting the nets over the quarter. "Ned Teare, you see to the line. Crennel, look after the corks. Davy--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. Teare and Crennel shot the gear, and as the seizings came up, Davy ran aft with them, 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 along the sea for half a mile behind them, Quilleash shouted, "Down with the sheets." The ropes were hauled, the sails were taken in, the mainmast--which was so made as to lower backward--was dropped, and only the drift-mizzen was left, and that was to keep the boat head on to the wind. "Up with the light there," said Quilleash. At this word Davy Fayle popped his head out of the hatchways. "Aw, to be sure, that lad's never ready. Get out of that, quick." Davy jumped on deck, took a lantern, and fixed it to the top of the mitch board. Then vessel and nets drifted together, and Dan and Ewan, who had kept the deck until now, went below together.