Tying each cork to a piece of thread, the old whaleman cast them over the stern and let out about a hundred feet of thread to each of the corks dancing in the bark’s wake where the petrels were flitting constantly back and forth. Scarcely had he done so, before one of the birds became entangled in a thread and, at its shrill cries of alarm, its comrades hurried towards it and in a moment several of the birds were hopelessly entangled. Rapidly pulling in the threads, the old man placed the frightened but unhurt birds upon the deck.
“There ye be,” he chuckled as he disengaged the thread from their wings and legs. “New kind o’ fishin’, eh?”
“It’s the funniest way of catching birds I ever saw,” declared Tom. “Oh, look out! They’ll get away!”
“Don’ worry ’bout that,” laughed Cap’n Pem. “The chicks can’t fly offen a level deck, ’ceptin’ they get a start by rollin’. Legs is too weak ter hol’ ’em up.”
Much to the boys’ surprise, they found that this was a fact, and that the petrels were practically helpless on the deck until the ship lurched or rolled and gave them an opportunity to rise. The birds seemed very tame and unsuspicious and greedily snapped up and devoured bits of food offered them. After playing with them for a time, the boys tossed them into the air and, an instant later, they were flitting back and forth with their fellows as if nothing had happened.
The next day, the boys were preparing to take their observations when an exclamation from the helmsman caused them to look up just in time to see one of the long-tailed “bo’sun birds” fluttering about the mizzen crosstrees as if about to alight.
“Eet mean some one he die!” exclaimed the Portuguese at the wheel. Taking one hand from the wheel he hastily crossed himself.
“Shet up, you!” exploded Cap’n Pem, and then, anxiously, “Mebbe ’twon’t light. Bad luck if he does, dern him!”
By now, every one on the ship was watching the hovering bird; the greenies, curiously; the seamen, with fear expressed on their faces, while even Captain Edwards looked more troubled and serious than the boys had ever before seen him.
The eyes of the big negro sailor rolled wildly; the pop-eyed boy’s eyes seemed about to burst from his head; the Irishman, Mike, was nervously hitching up his trousers and frowning at the beautiful bird and the Swedish carpenter was holding his crossed fingers in air as if invoking a charm. Not a word was spoken as every eye was fixed upon the innocent creature seeking a spot to rest and when, an instant later, it settled gently upon a ratline and commenced to preen its snowy feathers, a great sigh rose in unison from a score of hairy throats.