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It was a tedious business this beating up against the contrary wind; but there was nothing the MacNicols delighted in so much as in sailing, and they had grown to be expert in handling a boat. And it needed all their skill to get anything out of these repeated tacks with this old craft, that had a sneaking sort of fashion of falling away to leeward.
It was a good deal more wholesome than most banquets, for it consisted of a scone and a glass of fresh milk apiece butter being as yet beyond the means of the MacNicols. And it was a good deal more sensible than most banquets, for there was no speech-making after it. But there was some interesting conversation. 'Nicol, what did ye find in the dungeon? Duncan said.
Perhaps, however, it was more curiosity than anything else that brought the neighbours along to the west slip, to see what the MacNicols had been about.
All this took up the best part of the afternoon; for he had to cadge about before he could get a couple of stout poles; and he had to bargain with the blacksmith for a lump of lead. Then he walked along to the point where the other MacNicols were busy fishing. They had been lucky with their lines and bait.
These four MacNicols, Robert, Neil, Nicol, and Duncan, were, it must be admitted, an idle and graceless set, living for the most part a hand-to-mouth, amphibious, curlew-like kind of life, and far more given to aimless voyages in boats not belonging to them than inclined to turn their hand to any honest labour.
So the MacNicols got altogether 2 pounds 8 shillings for that load of mackerel: and out of that Rob spent the eight shillings on still further improving the net; the 2 pounds going into the savings bank. It is to be imagined that after this they kept a pretty sharp look-out for 'broken water; but of course they could not expect to run across a shoal of mackerel every day.
Then the passengers of the steamer rushed to the side to see what should become of the lads struggling in the water; the mate threw overboard to them a couple of life-buoys; and the captain shouted out to have a boat lowered. There was a great confusion. Meanwhile, all this had been witnessed by the father of the MacNicols, who had stood for a second or two as if paralysed.
Peter was a sour-visaged, gray-headed old man, who wore horn-rimmed spectacles. He was sitting cross-legged on his bench when Rob entered. 'Peter, will ye lend me your boat? 'I will not. 'Why will ye no lend me the boat? 'Do I want it sunk, as ye sunk that boat the other day? Go away with ye. Ye're an idle lot, you MacNicols. Ye'll be drooned some day.
And you should have seen Rob's air when he counselled Neil and Duncan and Nicol to go away home and have a sleep, and when he loftily called on two or three of the boys on the quay to come in and strip the nets. But the three MacNicols were far too excited to go away. They wanted to see the great heap of fish ladled out in baskets on to the quay. Mr.
And I was saying to myself that when Rob MacNicol has a boat of his own, then I will show him how to find the herring, and no one will know but himself. By this time the MacNicols had taken to their oars again; and they had pulled outside the harbour, the old punt still astern. Then Rob had to speak plainly. 'Look here, Sandy, I will not put ye ashore by force.
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