“Some on us, Joe Cross; not all.”
“Nay, but you meant it, Ikey Gregg,” said Joe.
“Not me, messmate. I says it’s dangerous to be safe to get meddling with things like that.”
“Ay, ay!” came from two or three of the other men, but only in a half-hearted way.
But it was encouragement enough for slow, quiet, fat Isaac Gregg to continue—
“You see, gentlemen, it’s like this. That there long-necked sarpint thing has only got to make a rush and chuck itself out of the water aboard us here, and break the schooner’s back, and where should us be then?”
“I don’t know,” said the skipper shortly. “But what do you say, doctor?”
“Well, for my part, speaking for the advancement of natural history, Captain Chubb, I should like to see that creature lying dead upon the surface, and left floating long enough for you and your men to take measurements, while my nephew and I did the best we could with pen and pencil to describe what might very well be called one of the wonders of the world.”
“And what do you say, squire?” asked the skipper, speaking eagerly.
“I say you’d better load the gun again, Captain Chubb,” replied Rodd, speaking very hurriedly. “We might hit it if it came up, and then we could try and do what my uncle says.”