Fidge, however, had no idea of remaining inactive, and insisted upon taking a part in the management of the craft, and so Dick made him the “Bosun,” and set him to work rowing with his little wooden spade.
Out in the garden the water became deeper, and Captain Dick’s pole would not reach the bottom; still, owing to some mysterious influence, their curious boat drifted merrily on, and the children did not puzzle themselves in the least as to the cause of their progress. It was quite enough for them to notice how strange and unnatural the gardens and all the familiar surroundings appeared in their present inundated state. The rosebushes and hedges looked so funny, growing out of the water, and there were such a lot of curious things floating about—a hen-coop, a wash-tub, and an old hamper had hurried past; and their boat had drifted as far as the gate leading out into the roadway, when Marjorie jumped up and pointed excitedly to something floating rapidly towards them.
“Look! Dick, look! there’s an old turkey on a chair coming along.”
As the object drew nearer, however, they could see that it was not a turkey, or, indeed, any bird with which they were familiar, but a most curious-looking creature. It had an oddly-shaped beak, webbed feet, and a funny great tuft of feathers for a tail.
“Why, the thing has gloves on!” cried Captain Dick.
“And a blue bow around its neck,” chimed in Fidge, his eyes dancing with excitement.
“Ship ahoy!” shouted the bird, as it came close up to the table.
“Good gracious! Why it can talk,” said Marjorie.
“Talk! Of course I can,” answered the bird. “Why not, pray?”
“Well, birds don’t generally talk, except parrots,” added Marjorie, as an afterthought.