“Oh! he’s not the only enemy of the flying-fish, Miss Meldrum,” answered Frank; “you should see the albatross after them down near the Cape. The bird hunts them as soon as they rise in the air, and the boneta when they’re in the water; so, between the two, they have little chance of escape—just like the fight, the other day, between the black-fish on the one side and the thresher and sword-fish on the other.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Kate with a shiver, “I couldn’t look at that long! The boneta hunt the flying-fish in a fairer way, and they do look so pretty when they jump out of the water! How disappointed the boneta must then feel when they see them take unto themselves wings and fly away?”
“They needn’t be disappointed long,” said Frank Harness, laughing, “for, they must know that they’re bound to catch them up in the long run. But, look at that cloud there, Miss Meldrum, slowly creeping up the sky. ‘I guess,’ as our American friend says, that we’re going to have some rain.”
“Do you think so?” she answered, smiling at Frank’s rather good imitation of Mr Lathrope’s nasal intonation of voice; “I thought it looked too bright for that.”
“We’ll have it soon; just you see,” said Frank.
“All right, Mr Positive, I suppose we must bow to your superior nautical skill.”
“Oh, Miss Meldrum, don’t laugh at me, if I am only a poor sailor,” said he reproachfully; “you always seem to taunt me with my profession!”
“I!” exclaimed Kate in surprise. “Why, I would not make fun of you, or hurt your feelings, for the world!”
Frank seized her hand and pressed it, as if he were about to say something in response; but, just at that moment, the rain, without offering the apology of a warning drop or two to give notice of its approach, came down in a perfect deluge, making them rush for shelter beneath the poop awning.
This was just after lunch, early in the afternoon; and the rain lasted until the dinner-bell sounded, coming down in regular sheets of water, as if emptied out suddenly from some enormous reservoir above.