“There was something, Barney, I’m sure.”
“Steady, Master Syd, sir, steady,” growled the boatswain. “You can’t lower yourself to call me Barney now you’re commander of a fort, and a werry strong one too.”
“Oh, very well, bo’sun. But about that thing, whatever it was. What do you think it could be?”
“Well, sir, I don’t see how it could get here; but it’s either a monkey or some small kind o’ nigger as lives nateral like on rocks.”
“But what could he live on?”
“Dunno, sir; lickin’ on ’em p’r’aps.”
“But there’s no water.”
“No, sir; that’s what puzzles me. The worst on it is it scares the lads.”
“Well, it is startling. He did not hit it, I suppose?”
“Hit it?” said the boatswain, contemptuously; “not him, sir. Get’s thinking it’s— there, I arn’t going to say what he thinks. Sailors has all kind o’ Davy Jonesy ideas in their heads till they gets promoted, and then o’ course they’re obliged to be ’bove all that sort of thing.”