The mast was lifted, but before the boat was brought about the skipper shouted, "Men, let us do as we're used of," and instantly the admiral's flag was run up to the masthead, and at this sign the men dropped on one knee, with their faces in their caps, and old Billy offered up a short and simple prayer of thanks for the blessings of the sea. When this was done every man leaped to his feet, and all was work, bustle, shouting, singing out, and some lusty curses. "Tumble up the sheets--bear a hand there--d---- the lad," bawled Quilleash; "get out of the way, or I'll make you walk handsome over the bricks." In five minutes more the "Ben-my-Chree," with the herring fleet behind her, was running home before a stiff breeze. "Nine maze--not bad for the first night," said Dan to Ewan. "Souse them well," said Quilleash, and Ned Teare sprinkled salt on the herrings as they lay in the hold. Crennel, the cook, better known as the "slushy," came up the hatchways with a huge saucepan, which he filled with the fish. As he did so there was a faint "cheep, cheep" from below--the herrings were still alive. All hands went down for a smoke except Corlett, who stood at the tiller, Davy, who counted for nobody and stretched himself out at the bow, and Ewan. The young parson, who had been taking note of the lad during the night, now seated himself on a coil of rope near where Davy lay. The "cheep, cheep" was the only sound in the air except the plash of the waters at the boat's bow, and with an inclination of the head in the direction of the fish in the hold, Ewan said, "It seems cruel, Davy, doesn't it?" "Cruel? Well, pozzible, pozzible. Och, 'deed now, they've got their feelings same as anybody else." The parson had taken the lad's measure at a glance. "You should see the shoals of them lying round the nets, watching the others--their mothers and sisters, as you might say--who've got their gills 'tangled. And when you haul the net up, away they go at a slant in millions and millions, just the same as lightning going through the water. Och, yes, yes, leave them alone for having their feelings." "It does seem cruel, Davy, eh?" Davy looked puzzled; he was reasoning out a grave problem. "Well, sir, that's the mortal strange part of it. It does look cruel to catch them, sarten sure; but then the herrings themselves catch the sand-eels, and the cod catch the herring, and the porpoises and grampuses catch the cod." Ewan did his best to look astonished. "Aw, that's the truth, sir. It's terrible, wonderful strange, but I suppose it's all nathur. You see, sir, we do the same ourselves." "How do you mean, Davy? We don't eat each other, I hope," said the young parson. "Och, don't we, though? Lave us alone for that." Ewan tried to look appalled.