“I think it’s a great snake,” cried Rodd excitedly. “I mean, a very large eel, swimming on the top, and he keeps throwing his head about as if he were feeding in the middle of a shoal of fish.”
“Yes, it is something like that, Rodd,” said the doctor; “but no conger eel could be as large as that, and really I don’t know.”
“Sea-sarpint, sir,” whispered Joe Cross to Rodd, and looking longingly at the glass the while.
“Nonsense!” cried Rodd. “Here, you have a look, Joe,” and he passed the glass to the sailor. “Now then,” he said, “what do you make of it?”
“I say sea-sarpint, sir.” The captain growled more deeply than ever.
“Sea-sarpint!” he said, in a tone of disgust. “There, hold your tongue, my lad. You’re a naturalist, doctor; you haven’t got no sea-sarpints in your books, have you?”
“No,” replied the doctor, handing the glass to one of the men, as he caught his longing eye. “But this must be a very curious fish, and it is evidently feeding. I wish it were coming this way, so that we could have a better view.”
Joe Cross lowered the boy’s glass and looked questioningly at Rodd, giving at the same time a wag of his head in the direction of the nearest man.
“Yes, let him have a look,” said Rodd hoarsely, and as the glass was passed the boy caught the sailor by the sleeve, and whispered, making Joe start and gaze at him inquiringly, before stooping down and giving his thigh a slap with his right hand.
“Ay, ay, sir!” he whispered. “Ask the skipper.”