“Where are e’ going, my dears?” shouted the Whale, as two other heads came peeping over.
“To the West Land,” answered Coppertop. “We’re searching for a December day,” she added, “and we thought the West Wind might lend us one of his.”
“Lar, now! Why, you’ve just missed the West Wind by a fin’s length! He blew by here about two bells after the dog watch. Won’t you come inside and sit down?” added Mr. Skipper Blubberkins, with an inviting smile.
“Not if I know it!” said the Albatross ungraciously. And with one sweep of his mighty wings he sped on, and the Whale was soon left behind.
“I—I should rather like to have gone in!” said Coppertop.
CHAPTER IX.
IN THE TROPICS
THEY were now in the tropics. The ocean lay basking in the heat, with scarcely a ripple upon its placid green face.
It was very beautiful and mysterious. A slight mauve haze hung over the sky, and the horizon was lost in a golden mist.