After a while the crew of the _Catamaran_ watched the manoeuvres of the
sword-fish with a degree of interest that almost caused them to forget
their own forlorn situation. Little William and Lilly Lalee were
especially delighted with the singular spectacle; and long after the
sailor and Snowball had turned their attention to other and more
necessary matters, the two stood side by side gazing out upon the ocean
in the direction in which the sea-swordsman had been seen.
We say _had been_ seen: for, after swallowing the brace of albacores,
the voracious monster had suddenly disappeared, either by diving deep
down into the sea, or shooting off to some distant point.
Little William and Lalee looked everywhere,--first astern, where the
swordsman had made the display of his skill; then on both sides; and,
finally, ahead. They looked in these different directions,--because,
from what they had already seen of its natative powers, they knew that
the great fish could pass in a few seconds through a hundred fathoms of
water, and therefore was as likely to be on one side as the other.
On no side, however, could the fish be seen; and, although both the
sailor-lad and Lalee would have been pleased to witness a little more of
that same sword exercise, they were at length forced to the conclusion
that the performance was over and the performer gone away,--perhaps, to
exhibit his prowess in some other quarter of the aquatic world.
"Berry like,--berry like he gone way," said Snowball, in reply to the
interrogatory of little William. "A good ting if dat am de fack; fo'
den we hab chance to hook up some o' dese hya abbacore. See dem now!
Doan' you see how berry different dey are behavin'. Dey no longer
'feerd. Dat am sign dat de long snout hab turn him nose in some oder
direcshun. He gone fo' sartin."
Sure enough the _behaviour_ of the albacores was very much altered, as
Snowball had affirmed. Instead of flashing about from one side of the
raft to the other, and exhibiting manifest symptoms of alarm, they now
swam placidly alongside, at a regular rate of speed, just keeping up
with the _Catamaran_.
They looked, moreover, as if they would now take the bait, which during
the presence of the sword-fish they had obstinately refused to touch,
though frequently flung, both by Snowball and the sailor, right under
their snouts.
Both were again preparing to repeat their angling operations; and in a
few seconds' time each had his hook ready, with a piece of shark-meat
temptingly attached to it, the bait being rendered still more attractive
from having a little shred of scarlet flannel looped around the shank of
the hook, while several fathoms of stout sennit-cord served as
trolling-lines.
Plash into the water went the two baited hooks, both at once; and,
almost before the ripples caused by the plunge had ceased to circle upon
the surface, a still louder plashing could be heard, and a much rougher
ripple seen,--in short, a large space of the surface agitated into foam,
where a brace of albacores were fluking and struggling on the respective
hooks of Snowball and the sailor.
Right rapidly were they hauled aboard, and their struggles brought to a
termination by a smart tap on the head administered to each in
succession, by a handspike, which had suddenly found its way into the
grasp of the sailor.
No time was thrown away in contemplating the captives, or triumphing
over their capture. Little William and Lalee alone examined the two
beautiful creatures thus brought within their reach; while Snowball and
the sailor, rapidly readjusting the baits upon their hooks, that had
been slightly disarranged by the teeth of the _tunnies_,--for the
albacore is a species of tunny fish,--once more flung them forth.
This time the baits were not so greedily "grabbed" at. As if the
"school" had become suspicious, they all for a considerable time fought
shy of it; but, as it was trolled so temptingly under their very snouts,
first one and then another began to make approach,--now nearer and
nearer, one or two taking a nibble at it, and then dropping it again,
and suddenly shying off,--as if they had discovered something unpleasant
either in its taste or touch.
This delicate nibbling continued for several minutes when, at length, an
albacore more courageous than its companions, or perhaps with an emptier
stomach than the rest, at sight of the tempting morsel suddenly took
leave of his discretion; and, darting forward, seized the bait upon
Ben's hook, swallowing bait, hook, and several inches of the
sennit-cord, at a single gulp!
There was no danger of its being able to detach itself from that hook.
The barb was already fast in its entrails before Ben gave the jerk to
secure it. Another jerk brought the fish out of its native element,
landing it amidships on board the _Catamaran_, where, like its two
predecessors, it was instantly knocked on the head.
Snowball continued to "troll" his line in the most approved fashion; and
was soon again joined by his brother "piscator," who, after settling the
scores with the second fish he had caught, had adjusted a fresh bait,
and once more flung his line into the water.
For some reason or other, the albacores became suddenly shy,--not as if
alarmed at the action of the anglers, but rather from having their
attention attracted to some other object invisible to the eyes of those
on the _Catamaran_. The fish were so near the raft, that every movement
made by them could be easily observed,--even to the glancing of their
silvery irides,--and those who observed them could see that they were
looking aloft.
Up went the eyes of the _Catamarans_, both anglers and idlers turning
their glances towards the sky. There was nothing to be seen there,--at
least, nothing to account for the shyness of the fish, or the upward
cast of their eyeballs. So thought three of the party,--little William,
Lalee, and the sailor,--who beheld only the blue, cloudless canopy of
the heavens.
Snowball, however, whose single experience of ocean-life was greater
than the sum total of the other three twice told, did not, like the
rest, desist all at once from his scrutiny of the sky, but remained
gazing with upturned look for period of several minutes.
At the termination of that time, an exclamatory phrase, escaping from
his lips, proclaimed the discovery of some object that, to his mind,
accounted for the odd behaviour of the albacores.
"De frigate-bird!" was the phrase that came mutteringly from between
Snowball's teeth. "Ya, ya,--dar am two ob dem,--de cock an' hen, I
s'pose. Dat 'counts for de scariness of dese hya fish. Dat's what am
doin' it."
"O, a frigate-bird!" said Ben Brace, recognising in Snowball's synonyme
one of the most noted wanderers of the ocean,--the _Pelicanus aquila_ of
the naturalists, but which, from its swift flight and graceful form, is
better known to mariners under the appellation given to it by Snowball.
"Where away?" interrogated the sailor. "I don't see bird o' any sort.
Where away, Snowy?"
"Up yonner,--nearly straight ober head,--close by dat lilly 'peck ob
cloud. Dar dey be, one on de one side, odder on fodder,--de ole cock
an' de ole hen, I'se be boun!"
"Your daylights be uncommon clear, nigger. I don't see ne'er a bird--
Ah, now I do!--two of 'em, as you say. Ye're right, Snowy. Them be
frigates to a sartainty. It's easy to tell the cut o' thar wings from
any other bird as flops over the sea. Beside, there be no other I knows
on as goes up to that height. Considerin' that thar wings be spread
nigh a dozen feet, if not all o' that, and that they don't look bigger
than barn-swallows, I reckon they must be mor'n a mile overhead o' us.
Don't you think so, Snowy?"
"Mile, Massa Brace! Ya, dey am two mile 'bove us at de berry lees. Dey
doan' 'peer to move an inch from dat same spot. Dar be no doubt dat
boaf o' 'em am sound 'sleep."
"Asleep!" echoed little William, in a tone that betokened a large
measure of astonishment. "You don't say, Snowball, that a bird can go
to sleep upon the wing?"
"Whoo! lilly Willy, dat all you know 'bout de birds in dis hya part ob
do worl'? Sleep on de wing! Sartin dey go 'sleep on de wing, an' some
time wif de wing fold close to dar body, an' de head tuck under 'im,--
don't dey, Mass' Brace?"
"I ain't sartin as to that," doubtingly answered the
ex-man-o'-war's-man. "I've heerd so: but it _do_ seem sort o'
unnat'ral."
"Whoo!" rejoined Snowball, with a slightly derisive inclination of the
head; "why for no seem nat'ral? De frigate hersef she sleep on de water
widout sails set,--not eben a stitch ob her canvas. Well, den: why no
dem frigate-birds in de air? What de water am to de ship de air am to
de birds. What hinder 'em to take dar nap up yonner, 'ceptin' when
dar's a gale ob wind? Ob coos dat u'd interrup' dar repose."
"Well, nigger," rejoined the sailor, in a tone that betokened no very
zealous partisanship for either side of the theory, "you may be right,
or you may be wrong. I ar'n't goin' to gi'e you the lie, one way or t'
other. All I know is, that I've seed frigates a-standing in the air, as
them be now, making way neyther to windart or leuart; f'r all that I
didn't believe they was asleep. I kud see thar forked tails openin' and
closin' jist like the blades o' a pair o' shears; and that inclined me
to think they war wide awake all the time. If they was asleep, how kud
they a-kep waggin' thar tails? Though a bird's tail be but feathers,
still it must ha' some feelin' in it."
"Law, Massa Ben!" retorted the negro, in a still more patronising tone,
as if pitying the poverty of the sailor's syllogism, "you no tink it
possible that one move in dar sleep? You nebber move you big toe, or
you foot, or some time de whole ob you leg? Beside," continued the
logician, passing to a fresh point of his argument, "how you s'pose de
frigate-bird do 'idout sleep? You know berry well he not got de power
to swim,--him feet only half web. He no more sit on de water dan a
guinea-fowl, or a ole hen ob de dunghill. As for him go 'sleep on de
sea, it no more possyble dan for you or me, Massa Ben."
"Well, Snowy," slowly responded the sailor, rather pushed for a reply,
"I'm willin' to acknowledge all that. It look like the truth, an' it
don't,--both at the same time. I can't understan' how a bird can go to
sleep up in the air, no more'n I could hang my old tarpaulin' hat on the
corner o' a cloud. Same time I acknowledge that I'm puzzled to make out
how them thar frigates can take thar rest. The only explanation I can
think o' is, that every night they fly back to the shore, an' turns in
thar."
"Whoogh! Massa Brace, you knows better dan dat. I'se heerd say dat de
frigate-bird nebber am seed more'n a hunder league from de shore. Dam!
Dis nigga hab seed dat same ole cock five time dat distance from land,--
in de middle ob de wide Atlantic, whar we sees 'um now. Wish it was
true he nebber 'tray more dan hunder knots from de land; we might hab
some chance reach it den. Hunder league! Golly! more'n twice dat
length we am from land; and dere 's dem long-wing birds hov'rin' 'bove
our heads, an sleepin' as tranquil as ebber dis nigga did in de caboose
ob de ole _Pandora_."
Ben made no reply. Whether the reasoning of the Coromantee was correct
or only sophistical, the facts were the same. Two forms were in the
sky, outlined against the back ground of cerulean blue. Though distant,
and apparently motionless, they were easily distinguishable as living
things,--as birds,--and of a kind so peculiar, that the eye of the rude
African, and even that of the almost equally rude Saxon, could
distinguish the species.