“Then why didn’t you,” said the doctor jocularly, “if it was so horrible as that?”
“I couldn’t, uncle,” cried the boy passionately. “I turned cold all over and couldn’t stir.”
“Well, come down below for a bit,” continued the doctor. “Why, Chubb, the boy’s had a regular scare.”
“Ah! and no wonder,” said the skipper gruffly. “It scared the men too. They saw it.”
“What, the same thing that you fired at?”
“Ah, that I don’t know. That was a great long eely thing; but Joe Cross here says this was more like a great turtle, with flippers and a long neck, and a head like a snake.”
No more was said till they were in the cabin, where soon after he had found himself in safety, shut in and with the swinging lamp burning above his head, Rodd heaved a deep sigh and then uttered a forced laugh.
“I couldn’t help it, uncle,” he said, “and I didn’t think I could have been such a coward; but I am all right now. The other men did see it too, didn’t they?”
“Yes, my lad; they saw it too,” replied the skipper; “and next time we goes ashore, if we are stupid enough to talk about it every one will laugh and say we are making up tales for the marines. I’ve known skipper after skipper who has seen something of the kind in the warm seas and has told yarns about them. But men don’t often do so now, no matter what they see, for one don’t like to be laughed at. Well, sir, I suppose you believe there’s more queer things in the sea than most people know of?”
“Well, yes,” said Uncle Paul, “I am beginning to believe more and more that we who follow out natural history have a great deal to learn.”