As they looked over the side they could gaze down through the crystal-clear water into the groves of seaweed and shrubberies of coral, where the anemones and star-fish were dotting every clear spot with what looked like floral beauties.
“Seems a shame to throw all that filth overboard, and spoil all that lovely clearness,” said Carey.
“Do it, sir? Ah, it won’t spoil it long. There’s them there as’ll think it good enough, and in five minutes the water’ll be as clear as ever.”
“But I don’t see a single fish.”
“More do I, sir, but they’re all about somewhere. Ah, look yonder; there’s one of them black and yaller snakes. He’s a big thick one too. See him?” said the man, pointing.
“No—yes, I do,” cried the boy eagerly, and he shaded his eyes to watch the strikingly coloured reptile lying apparently asleep on the surface, twined up in graceful curves, some thirty yards away.
“You see if he don’t go like a shot as soon as I make a splash.”
A line was attached to the handle of the bucket, which was then raised from the deck.
“Stand clear,” cried Bostock, and with a dexterous heave he spread its contents far and wide, dropping the bucket directly after to fill itself and be washed clean.
“Where’s the snake?” he said.