“To be sure, you told me last night in the cabin. Then here are two of our embryo captains, Mr—”
“Nicholas Walters,” said my companion, trying to speak gruffly.
“And—”
“Alison Dale.”
“That’s right; I like to know the name of my patients present or to be. Let me make you known to Mr Arthur Preddle, FZS.”
“And FLS,” said the big passenger, mildly.
“To be sure, forgive my ignorance,” said the doctor. “Now let’s go and see the fish.”
Mr Preddle led the way—that is, his words and looks were eager, but his body was very slow and lumbering as he walked with us to the steps, and then down to the main-deck, and forward; and all the time, as he moved his feet, I could not for the life of me help thinking about the way in which an elephant walked onward in his slow, soft way. It put one in mind of india-rubber, and all the time our new acquaintance gave a peculiar roll from side to side.
There was still a great deal of lumber about the deck, but the officers were rapidly getting everything cleared, and we soon reached a well-protected and sheltered spot forwards, where several large frames had been fitted up on purpose, and the boards which had been screwed on when they were brought on board having been removed, there they were, several shallow trays of little fish swimming hurriedly about in shoals in the clear water, but ready enough to dash at the tiny scraps of food Mr Preddle threw in.
“For fresh food, sir?” said Walters. “Won’t they be very small?”