It was some days now since we had left behind us the tranquillities of
the Equator, and we were proceeding slowly towards the south, driven by
the south trade wind. One morning Yves entered my room full of business,
in order to prepare his lines for catching birds: "We have seen," he
said, "the first 'draught-boards' behind us."
These "draught-boards" are birds of the open sea, near relatives of the
sea-gull, and the most beautiful of all the tribe: snowy white, the
plumage soft and silky, with a black draught-board finely designed on
the wings.
The first "draught-boards!" Their appearance reminds us of the distance
we have travelled; it is a sign that we have left well behind us our
northern hemisphere, and that we are approaching the cold regions which
lie on the other side of the earth, in the far south.
They were before their due time nevertheless, these "draught-boards";
for we were still in the blue zone of the trade winds. And all day long,
and every day, and every night, was the same breeze, regular, warm, and
exquisite to respire; and the same transparent sea, and the same little
white fleecy clouds passing peacefully across the lofty heaven; and the
same bands of flying fish rising up in foolish alarm with their long wet
wings, and shining in the sun like birds of bluish steel.
There were quantities of these flying-fish; and when it happened that
one of them was foolish enough to alight on board, the topmen quickly
cut off its wings and ate it.
The time when Yves used to like to descend from his crow's nest and come
to visit me in my room was in the evening, especially after the assembly
at evening quarters. He would come very quietly, without making in his
bare feet any more noise than a cat. He would drink some fresh water
straight out of a water-cooler which hung at my port-hole, and then set
to work putting in order divers things which belonged to me; or, maybe,
he would read some novel. There was one especially of George Sand's
which enthralled him, "Le Marquis de Villemer." At the first reading I
had surprised him on the point of tears, towards the end.
Yves could sew very skilfully, as all good sailors can, and it was
quaint to see him engaged in this work, given his size and aspect.
During his evening visits he used to overhaul my uniform and do any
repairs which he judged were beyond the skill of my servant to attend to
properly.