“Yes,” said the mate kindly. “I wouldn’t try to overdo it the first time you are up on deck. Lie back and rest, my lad. Send for the Camel, Poole, lad, when you have done looking at it. Now, my lads, two of you, swabs.”
He turned away, and a couple of the men set to work to wash and dry the slimy deck, but waited until the little admiring crowd had looked their fill, the foremost men seeming to take a vast amount of interest in fishology, making several highly intellectual remarks about the configuration of the denizen of the deep. Before long though the real reason of their interest escaped them, for one made a remark or two about what a fine thick cut could be got from “just there,” while another opined that a boneeter of that there size ate tenderer boiled than fried.
By that time Fitz’s excitement had died down, and he no longer took interest in the beautiful steely and blue tints mingled with silver and gold, that flashed from the creature’s scales. In fact, in answer to a whispered query on the part of Poole, he nodded his head and let it lie right back against the chair. This was the signal for the Camel to be fetched to help bear the big fish forward to the galley, ready for cutting up, while the two men with bucket and swab rapidly finished cleaning and drying the deck, so that the damp patches began to turn white again in the hot rays of the sun.
It was all very quickly done, and then Poole began to slowly wind up the long line, giving every turn carefully and methodically so as to spread the stout hempen cord as open and separate for drying purposes as could be.
He took his time, dropping in a word or two now and then, apparently intent upon his task, but keenly watching his companion all the while.
“Hasn’t been too much for you, has it?” he said.
“No,” replied Fitz; “not too much, for it was very interesting; but it was quite enough. I don’t quite know how it is, but I have turned so sleepy.”
“Ah, you are tired. Sit quite back, and I will draw the chair over here into the shade. A nap till dinner-time up here in the air will do you no end of good, and give you an appetite for dinner. There; the sun won’t be round here for an hour.”
It was easily done, the cane legs gliding like rockers over the well-polished deck, and the lad returned to his place to turn the winder where he had stood the line to dry. This process was going on rapidly, and he stopped bending over the apparatus to examine the hook and stout snood, to see that it had not been frayed by the fish’s teeth. This done, he turned to speak to Fitz again, and smiled to himself.
“Well,” he said, “it doesn’t take him long to go to sleep,” for the tired midshipman’s eyes were tightly closed and he was taking another instalment of that which was to give him back his strength.