That it had penetrated the plank from underneath could be easily seen, by the ragged edge, and split pieces around the orifice where it came out.
But the negro did not stay to draw deductions of this nature. On catching sight of the object,—which he knew had not been there before,—his terror at once came to an end; and a long cachinnation, intended for a peal of laughter, announced that “Snowball was himself again.”
“Golly!” he exclaimed. “Look dar, Massa Brace. Look at de ting dat hab gub us sich a frightnin. Whuch! Who’d a beliebed dat de long-nose had got so much ’trength in im ugly body? Whuch!”
“A sword-fish!” cried Ben. The rostrum of one of these singular creatures was the sharp bone protruding above the plank. “You’re right, Snowy, it be a sword-fish, and nothing else.”
“Only de snout o’ one,” jocularly rejoined the negro. “De karkiss ob de anymal an’t dar any more. Dat was de black body I seed under de raff; but he an’t dar now. He hab broke off him long perbossus; and no doubt dat hab killed him. He gone dead, and to de bottom, boaf at de same time.”
“Yes,” assented the sailor. “It must have broke off while he was struggling to get clear, I heerd the crash o’t, like the partin’ o’ a spar; and just after, the raft stopped shakin’, an’ began to settle down again. Lor ha mercy on us! what a thrust he have made! That plank be five inches thick, at the very least, an’ you see he’s stuck his snout through it more’n a foot! Lor ’a mercy on us! What wonderful queery creeturs the ocean do contain!”
And with this philosophic reflection, from the lips of the man-o’-war’s-man, ended the adventure.