Then all the sheep laughed and grinned, whilst the directors, who were coming up swinging against the side of the ship, shrieked for mercy. Then they were dumped down on the deck like a heap of big ripe grapes, unhooked, and kicked into pens. One or two of them died.
These proceedings, which caused a great deal of merriment amongst the crew, were hardly over, when there was a fearful squealing and cawing heard at the back of the ship, and all the sheep ran aft to see what was the matter.
‘Why, it’s only a lot of molly-hawks and albatrosses crying,’ said the captain.
To mop up their tears some of them held little bits of seaweed and bladder-wrack in their claws.
‘That’s funny,’ said the commander, looking at the birds through his telescope.
‘Very funny,’ said the first mate, who liked to keep in with his chief.
‘Very, very funny,’ said the second officer.
Then everybody laughed.
‘Let us ask them why they are so sad. Where is my speaking-trumpet?’ said the captain.
The trumpet was brought, and a big sheep, holding it up to his face, after several preliminary ‘Baas,’ shouted out, ‘Ahoy, my feathered friends! why these drippings?’