They who have sailed with the fleet say that one of the marvels of the fisherman’s mind is the unerring skill with which he will identify vessels in the distant fleet, To the landsman all are alike—­a group of somewhat dingy schooners, not over trig, and apt to be in need of paint.  But the trained fisherman, pursing his eyes against the sun’s glitter on the waves, points them out one by one, with names, port-of-hail, name of captain, and bits of gossip about the craft.  As the mountaineer identifies the most distant peak, or the plainsman picks his way by the trail indistinguishable to the untrained eye, so the fisherman, raised from boyhood among the vessels that make up the fleet, finds in each characteristics so striking, so individual, as to identify the vessel displaying them as far as a keen eye can reach.

[Illustration:  “THE BOYS MARKED THEIR FISH BY CUTTING OFF THEIR TAILS”]

The fishing schooners, like the whalers, were managed upon principles of profit-sharing.  The methods of dividing the proceeds of the catch differed, but in no sense did the wage system exist, except for one man on board—­the cook, who was paid from $40 to $60 a month, besides being allowed to fish in return for caring for the vessel when all the men were out in dories.  Sometimes the gross catch of the boat was divided into two parts, the owners who outfitted the boat, supplying all provisions, equipment, and salt, taking one part, the other being divided among the fishermen in proportion to the catch of each.  Every fish caught was carefully tallied, the customary method being to cut the tongues, which at the lose of the day’s work were counted by the captain, and each man’s catch credited.  The boys, of whom each schooner carried one or two, marked their fish by cutting off the tails, wherefore these hardy urchins, who generally took the sea at the age of ten, were called “cut-tails.”  The captain, for his more responsible part in the management of the boat, was not always expected to keep tally of his fish, but was allowed an average catch, plus from three to five per cent. of the gross value of the cargo.  Not infrequently the captain was owner of the boat, and his crew, thrifty neighbors of his, owning their own houses by the waterside, and able to outfit the craft and provide for the sustenance of their wives and children at home without calling upon the capitalist for aid.  In such a case, the whole value of the catch was divided among the men who made it.  At best, these shares were not of a sort to open the doors of a financial paradise to the men.  The fisheries have always afforded impressive illustrations of the iron rule of the business world that the more arduous and more dangerous an occupation is, the less it pays.  It was for the merest pittance that the fishermen risked their lives, and those who had families at home drawing their weekly provender from the outfitter were lucky if, at the end of the cruise they found themselves with the bill