Snowball, however, whose single experience of ocean-life was greater than the sum total of the other three twice told, did not, like the rest, desist all at once from his scrutiny of the sky, but remained gazing with upturned look for period of several minutes.
At the termination of that time, an exclamatory phrase, escaping from his lips, proclaimed the discovery of some object that, to his mind, accounted for the odd behaviour of the albacores.
“De frigate-bird!” was the phrase that came mutteringly from between Snowball’s teeth. “Ya, ya,—dar am two ob dem,—de cock an’ hen, I s’pose. Dat ’counts for de scariness of dese hya fish. Dat’s what am doin’ it.”
“O, a frigate-bird!” said Ben Brace, recognising in Snowball’s synonyme one of the most noted wanderers of the ocean,—the Pelicanus aquila of the naturalists, but which, from its swift flight and graceful form, is better known to mariners under the appellation given to it by Snowball.
“Where away?” interrogated the sailor. “I don’t see bird o’ any sort. Where away, Snowy?”
“Up yonner,—nearly straight ober head,—close by dat lilly ’peck ob cloud. Dar dey be, one on de one side, odder on fodder,—de ole cock an’ de ole hen, I’se be boun!”
“Your daylights be uncommon clear, nigger. I don’t see ne’er a bird—Ah, now I do!—two of ’em, as you say. Ye’re right, Snowy. Them be frigates to a sartainty. It’s easy to tell the cut o’ thar wings from any other bird as flops over the sea. Beside, there be no other I knows on as goes up to that height. Considerin’ that thar wings be spread nigh a dozen feet, if not all o’ that, and that they don’t look bigger than barn-swallows, I reckon they must be mor’n a mile overhead o’ us. Don’t you think so, Snowy?”
“Mile, Massa Brace! Ya, dey am two mile ’bove us at de berry lees. Dey doan’ ’peer to move an inch from dat same spot. Dar be no doubt dat boaf o’ ’em am sound ’sleep.”
“Asleep!” echoed little William, in a tone that betokened a large measure of astonishment. “You don’t say, Snowball, that a bird can go to sleep upon the wing?”
“Whoo! lilly Willy, dat all you know ’bout de birds in dis hya part ob do worl’? Sleep on de wing! Sartin dey go ’sleep on de wing, an’ some time wif de wing fold close to dar body, an’ de head tuck under ’im,—don’t dey, Mass’ Brace?”