“What d’ye mean?” presently said Captain Snaggs, breaking the silence; “what schooner air ye talkin’ on?”
“Ze schgooners dat I vas zail in vrom Guayaquil dat time as I tell yous, vor to gatoh ze orchillas veeds.”
“But, mister, say, what hez thet stuff, which in coorse I knows on, to do with this durned old image hyar?” again interrogated the skipper, in an incredulous tone. “I guess ye air gettin’ a bit kinder mixed up, an’ yer yarn don’t hitch on an’ run smooth like!”
“Joost zo,” returned the imperturbable second-mate, in no way disturbed by this impeachment of his veracity. “You joost vait; I vas hab zometing vor to zay. Joost vait and I vas tell yous.”
“Carry on then,” said Captain Snaggs impatiently. “By thunder! ye air ez long gettin’ under way, I guess, ez a Cape Cod pilot. Fire away, an’ be durned to ye, an’ tell us the hull bilin’, mister!”
Jan Steenbock, however, would not allow himself to be hurried in this fashion. Quite unmoved by the skipper’s impatience, he went on in his slow, deliberate way, all of us listening with the keenest attention and steadying ourselves for a good yarn.
“It vas dree year ago dat I vas meet mit Cap’en Shackzon, of ze schgooners Mariposa, at Guayaquil,” he began sententiously, clearing his throat, and seeming to speak in deeper and deeper tones as he proceeded with his narrative. “He vas go, he tells me, vor a drading voy’ge to ze Galapagos Islants, and vas vant a zecond-mate, and vas ask me vor to come mit hims.”
“An’ ye wented,” interrupted the skipper—“hey?”
“Yase, I vas go! Cap’en Shackzon zays, zays he, bevore we sdart, dat ze schgooners vas to zail vor Jarls Islant, call’t by ze Sbaniards ‘Vloreana,’ vere dere vas a lot of beeples vrom Equador dat collect ze orchilla veeds, and vas drade likevise to ze mainland mit ze hides and zalt veesh, and ozer tings.”
“I reckon all thet don’t consarn us, mister,” said the skipper, arresting any further enumeration of the exports from Charles Island; “an’ so, ye went thaar to trade, hey?”