Michael Penguyne | Page 7

the beginning.
While Nelly and her grandmother and the other women of the village
were employed in selling the fish, the men had plenty of occupation
during the day in drying and mending their nets, and repairing their
boats, while some time was required to obtain the necessary sleep of
which their nightly toil had deprived them. Those toilers of the sea
were seldom idle. When bad weather prevented them from going far
from the coast, they fished with lines, or laid down their lobster-pots
among the rocks close inshore, while occasionally a few fish were to be
caught in the waters of their little harbour. Most of them also cultivated

patches of ground on the sides of the valley which opened out at the
further end of the gorge, but, except potatoes, their fields afforded but
precarious crops.
Paul and Michael had performed most of their destined task: the net
had been spread along the rocks to dry, and two or three rents, caused
by the fisherman's foes, some huge conger or cod-fish, had been
repaired. A portion of their fish had been sold to Abel Mawgan, and the
remainder had been salted for their own use, when Paul, who had been
going about his work with less than his usual spirit, complained of
pains in his back and limbs. Leaving Michael to clean out the boat and
moor her, and to bring up the oars and other gear, he went into the
cottage to lie down and rest.
Little perhaps did the strong and hardy fisherman suppose, as he threw
himself on his bunk in the little chamber where he and Michael slept,
that he should never again rise, and that his last trip on the salt sea had
been taken--that for the last time he had hauled his nets, that his life's
work was done. Yet he might have had some presentiment of what was
going to happen as he sailed homewards that morning, when he
resolved to tell Michael about his parents, and gave him the account of
his father's death which has been described.
The young fisher boy went on board the "Wild Duck," and was busily
employed in cleaning her out, thinking over what he had heard in the
morning. Whilst thus engaged, he saw a small boat coming down from
the head of the harbour towards him, pulled by a lad somewhat older
than himself.
"There is Eban Cowan, the miller's son. I suppose he is coming here. I
wonder what he wants?" he thought. "The `Polly' was out last night,
and got a good haul, so it cannot be for fish."
Michael was right in supposing that Eban Cowan was coming to their
landing-place. The lad in the punt pulled up alongside the "Wild Duck."
"How fares it with you, Michael?" he said, putting out his hand. "You
did well this morning, I suspect, like most of us. Did Abel Mawgan buy

all your `catch'? He took the whole of ours."
"No, granny and Nelly started off to Helston with their creels full, as
they can get a much better price than Mawgan will give," answered
Michael.
"I am sorry that Nelly is away, for I have brought her some shells I
promised her a month ago. But as I have nothing to do, I will bide with
you till she comes back."
"She and granny won't be back till late, I am afraid, and you lose your
time staying here," said Michael.
"Never mind, I will lend you a hand," said Eban, making his punt fast,
and stepping on board the "Wild Duck."
He was a fine, handsome, broad-shouldered lad, with dark eyes and
hair, and with a complexion more like that of an inhabitant of the south
than of an English boy.
He took up a mop as he spoke, whisking up the bits of seaweed and
fish-scales which covered the bottom of the boat.
"Thank you," said Michael; "I won't ask you to stop, for I must go and
turn in and get some sleep. Father does not seem very well, and I shall
have more work in the evening."
"What is the matter with Uncle Paul?" asked Eban.
Michael told him that he had been complaining since the morning, but
he hoped the night's rest would set him to rights.
"You won't want to go to sea to-night. It's blowing hard outside, and
likely to come on worse," observed Eban.
Though he called Paul "uncle," there was no relationship. He merely
used the term of respect common in Cornwall when a younger speaks
of an older man.

Eban, however, did not take Michael's hint, but continued working
away in the boat till she was completely put to rights.
"Now," he said, "I will help you up with the oars and sails.