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The frigates has spied 'em from aloft, an' that's what's brought them hoverin' over. They've seed the albacores too; and as they know that these preys on the flyin'-fish, they've come down to be nearer thar game. Unless the albacores get thar eyes on the winged fish, and run down among 'em, there'll be no chance for the frigates. They can do nothin' till t' other jumps 'em out o' the water.
I could hear that clear back by the bridge, where Vee and I were leanin' over the rail watchin' for flyin'-fish. Also we are within ear-stretchin' distance when he makes his report to Auntie. "Somewhere around here he thinks," says Mr. Ellins. "Says he needs a day or so to get his bearings. Meanwhile he wants us to go fishing." "Fish!" sniffs Auntie. "I shall certainly do nothing of the sort.
No more do these sky-blue chaps as be swimming around us. They be now lookin' for 'em, mighty sharp, as ye see; an' they'll be sartin to scare 'em up in three shakes o' a shark's tail." "What other sort of fish?" inquired William. "Flyin'-fish, lad; same's you an' I made our first meal on, when we wur wellnigh starvin'. There's a school not far off.
It don't matter what the conversation started with, whether 'twas ships, or flyin'-fish, or hurricanes, waterspouts anything in heaven or airth, she'd bring it all round in a sort of great-circle-sailing fashion to you. And now that you've got her, lad, I hope as you'll be able to sail her properly.
He be thear; and He sent the flyin'-fish into our wee bit o' raft, and He sent the shower as saved me and little Will'm from dyin' o' thust; and He it war that made you an' me drift to'rds each other, so as that we might work thegither to get out o' this here scrape, as our own foolishness and wickedness ha' got us into." "Dat am de troof, Massa Brace, dat las' remark, only not altogedder!
"I war 'stonished," continued the sailor, without heeding the odd interpolation of the sea-cook, "wonderful 'stonished when that flyin'-fish chucked itself aboard our bit o' plankin', an' it no bigger than the combin' o' a hatchway. What kud 'a conducted it thear, to that spot above all others o' the broad ocean? What but the hand o' that angel as sits up aloft?
The hues of blue and white were conspicuous in the bright sunbeams, and those gay-coloured creatures, that appeared to belong to the air, but which in reality were denizens of the great deep, were at once recognised by the sailor. "A shoal o' flyin'-fish," he simply remarked, and without removing from his recumbent position.
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