"'He's waiting and watching for you, young man,' the skipper told me, consolingly. 'He's a fine big beast, and you'll fit in there nicely! Now if you've anything to say, or if there's anything you'd like done arter your de—mise, you had better speak now, for I calculate ye haven't got more'n a day to get ready.'"
"Oh!" I groaned, "if there was anything I could eat I think I'd get round even yet."
"'Well,' he said, 'we're having jest the nicest bit o corned horse and sauer-kraut for dinner ever ye smelt. It's just stale enough to be tender. If ye can't tackle that I guess ye ain't much good any more!'
"That is chapter first, Fred, and now for the romance. I was lying in my hammock, dozing I think, that same evening, only looking up at the clear bright stars now and then, and wondering how far heaven is beyond them, and if I shall know my dear father when I meet him there, when all of a sudden some cold splashy thing jumped right against my face, then commenced a very lively dance on top of the hammock. It was a flying-fish."
Frank paused.
"Well," said Fred, "but I don't see where the romance comes in, or how the creature saved your life."
"Why, man alive, I ate it!"
"You eatee he alive, sah?" cried Cassia-bud.
"No, Kash, I had it cooked; and it was the most delightfully tasty and toothsome morsel ever I put inside my lips. Another was caught next day, and lots more after; and I grew better from that very night, and so that also was a disappointed shark."
"Ah! yum! yum!" said Quambo, "dey is good food. I likee some now. Yum!"