"Ah yes, so! What you call? Otter?"
"Yes, what they call an otter. Very good swim?"
"Yes, swim all right," and Pierre pensively watched the otter swimming away sternwards.
"How you getting on down at the galley?" asked Mike, for Pierre had been told off to sit at the galley door peeling potatoes, washing up, and so forth, on behalf of the upper deck. Pierre shrugged his shoulders.
"Not ver' good," he said.
"Who's helping you for the lower deck? Somebody helping you for the lower deck?" asked Mike.
"Two!" replied Pierre, and held up two fingers.
"Two!" said Mike, frowning, as though something was wrong.
"Not together. One man was come down with me—you know, man with hat——" and he held his hands up some distance out from his head on either side. Mike nodded. "He came down with me first day. Candlass tell me go down. Rafferty tell him. The cook talk rough. He say nozing—he just look. The cook say: 'What the hell you look at me?' and he say to cook—something I don't know. The cook run and get——" Pierre made a motion as of one who chops beef with a cleaver.
"A mate cl'aver!" said Mike, to the manner born.