the cove, towing the dory.

It was a clear, cool night. A light wind was blowing from the north, but
the sea was fairly smooth.

"Guess we'll run down to Clay Bank," said Spurling. "It's only six miles
to the southward. We ought to get a good set there."

Steadily they plowed on. It was Percy's first experience in a small boat
on the midnight ocean, and he felt something akin to awe as they
breasted the long swells, heaving in slowly and gently, yet
resistlessly. Down to the horizon all around arched the deep blue
firmament, spangled with stars. Matinicus Rock glittered in the west,
while just beyond the shoulder of Brimstone Point, Saddleback Light,
almost level with the sea, kept vanishing and reappearing.

As the _Barracouta_ forged forward her prow started two diverging lines
of phosphorescent bubbles and her wake resembled a trail of boiling
flame. Percy called Jim's attention to the display.

"Yes," remarked the latter, "the water's firing in good shape to-night."

There was a sudden splash to starboard. A gleaming body several feet
long rolled up above the surface; a grunting sigh broke the silence; and
the apparition disappeared.

"What's that?" demanded the startled Percy.

"Porpoise! 'Puffing pig.'"

For over an hour Jim held the sloop to an exact course by means of his
compass. At half past two he stopped the engine.

"Well, I guess we're here!"

"We're here, fast enough!" assented Percy, staring about. "But where's
here? Doesn't look any different to me from anywhere else."

"Clay Bank."

With his sounding-lead Jim tried the depth of the water.

"Thought so! Fifty fathoms!"

He prepared at once to set the trawl. Dropping the outer jib and
mainsail, he jogged slowly before the wind under the jumbo, or inner
jib.

"Now let her go!"

Over splashed the buoy, an empty pickle-keg, painted red, and drifted
astern. Next, down went the light anchor. As soon as it reached bottom
Jim lifted the first tub of trawl to the wash-board. Then with the
heaving-stick, eighteen inches long and whittled to a point, he began to
flirt overboard the coils lying in the tub.

Percy, holding the lantern, watched the steady stream of gangings and
herring-baited hooks follow one another over the side and sink astern.
In a surprisingly short time the tub was empty, and the five hundred
fathoms of trawl, with more than a hook to a fathom, lay in a long,
straight line on the muddy bottom, three hundred feet below.