“No, never,” he replied; “at least, that is,”—but seeing his hesitation, I said I fancied I’d heard a story about a passenger by the name of Jonah down on the Syrian coast a while back. “Oh, well y’know,” he muttered apologetically, “’f course accidents will happen, ’s the shark said to his brother when he took him in, but I don’t reckon thar wuz anythin’ to mek a noise erbout. ’Tany-rate the can’date left considerable sudden. Yew needn’t be ’fraid ennyhow.”
But I was unprepared with any more questions at the moment, the outlook, or inlook rather, being so disconcerting. So I said, “Would your Majesty object to outlining a few of your wonderful experiences for the benefit of landsmen generally. Any information you may choose to give will be regarded as strictly confidential, of course.”
“Oh, sartinly,” he replied with an alarming area of smile. “Mos’ ov ’em hev ben with your dod-gasted tribe. Why yew’re tarnally prowlin’ erbout tryin’ ter get ter wind’ard ov peac’ble fokes I kaint surmise. Still, up till now I’ve ben equal ter holdin’ me own,—keepin’ me eend up, ez yew may say. To-day f’rinstance, hey?” I winced under the sarcasm. “But I mind onst daown on the Noo Seelan’ coas’ towin’ five boat-load ov Mowries frum the Solander ’way down eenamost ter the Cambells. They wuz a plucky crowd, f’r they helt on ter me through a blizzard ov hail an’ snow lasting twyst az long as I kin stay soundin’. When it gin over they wuz all fruz stiffer’n a lance-pole. My, but gettin’ cleer ov em wuz a pull. I hed to soun’ at top-gait ’sif I wuz boun’ f’r two thousan’ fathoms, ’n’ suthin’ hed ter give. I wuz pretty fat in those days, so their all-fired irons drew. They galled me like sixty, but I was free.
“Then a left-handed-on-both-feet crowd eout ov a French right-whaler tackled me offn the Cape. Mighty big mistake they struck—thought I wuz pore ole say-nothin’-ter-nobody Mr. Cetus, they did. ’N’, when I milled roun’ ’n’ cum f’r ’em eend on ’ith er twenty foot smile on me hed! airthqueeks ’n’ volcanose! y’ sh’d jest er seen ’em flew. Didn’ wait to say howdy, jest cut line ’n’ vamoosed like ’sif ole Jemmy Smallback wuz after ’em. I wuz thet mad, I’d liketer hev busted up their ole hooker ’n’ all, but thet thar Essex affair gin me sech er swell’d hed I ’lowed it warn’t bad reck’nin’ ter let her go et that.
“Say, djever see er big squid, big’s me?” he queried sharply.
“Yes, your Majesty, I did once. Only once. B-b-b-ay of B-b-bengal,” for I was almost moribund.
“Ah, you hev seen suthin’ then. F’r yew insecks wut live on top don’t offen git a chance ter see them critters ’less we bring ’em up f’r the sun ter see haow gaul-darned ugly they air. Wall, one like yew say yew seen tangled erp my fav’rit’ wife off Futuna one afternoon. Me an’ my harem wuz feedin’ at ’bout a thousan’ fathom, an’ Polly jest sidled up ter ole Jellybelly ’n’ got hole ov a mouthful ov him. He, bein’ kinder s’prised, gripped her all over ter onst; ’n’, stranger,” he added impressively, “I’ll be weather-bound ef he didn’t frap her hole head up so’s she couldn’t bite er breathe. We’d ben down ’bout long ernough too, but I sailed right in ’n’ bit his great carkiss in half az well az I c’d see f’r his ink-cloud. Hows’ever I wuz too late, f’r he’d locked his tangle ov arms roun’ an’ roun’ her hed, ’n’ though his body wuz all chawed erp they couldn’ come adrift. So she drowned, ’n we all hed ter make tracks upstairs quicker ’n winkin’ er we sh’d a ben drowned tu. As ’twuz we wuz fair beat out when we arrove up top.
“Did I ever have enny fights with me own people? Well I—but there, how’d yew know, poor thing. Millyuns ov ’em. Look at me,” and he swept proudly past exhibiting his grooved and ribbed flanks bearing indelible traces of many a furious battle, some of the foot-wide scars being twenty feet long.
“Enny more informashun I c’n supply yew with at short notice? bekuz this session’ll hev ter adjurn siny die in about tew minnits. I’m gittin’ mos’ amazin’ peckish.”
Happy thought, “What do you live on mostly, your Majesty?”