"She looks well and trim," I said, untying the mouth of the meal bag; "but I notice she has a slight list to the port side."
"A list to port!" said he looking forward. "Ha! that's unlucky. I wish it had been to starboard; but as it's not much, the men may not notice it. I fancy they'll see more of ill luck in this cat."
When I opened the bag, Baudrons escaped with a good dusting of flour on his fur. The cat looked wildly uneasy; he showed no signs of that gentle docility which Grace Drever admired in him; but with his cheeks puffed out and the loose skin about his nose and head drawn up in uncanny wrinkles, he dashed across the deck once or twice, lashing his tail from side to side like a savage brute, and then, approaching the main hatchway, he made a great spring down the hold, there to enjoy himself amongst the mice.
[Chapter XIII]. In Which I Receive A Present.
While all was busy on deck, Captain Gordon took my father and me below to his cabin. It was a neatly fitted-up room with many books and pictures and maritime instruments that interested me. What most attracted my attention was the captain's private collection of fishing tackle and his armoury. There were some fine landing nets and rods with bright brass rings and reels, and the artificial flies were quite confusing in their number and variety. In the armoury were several six shooters of different patterns, and many double-barrelled guns and ornamented rifles. Captain Gordon allowed me to handle some of these, and he explained their mechanism to me.
One little fowling piece that I examined was so light and so beautifully made that I returned to it again and again while the captain and my father were talking together. It had a long steel barrel with delicate engraving upon it, and a carved stock. I was admiring the spring of the trigger work when Captain Gordon asked me if I was a good shot.
"I have never fired a gun in my life," I said.
To my surprise he said, "You may have that gun in your hand if you'll accept it."
"O, but I canna think of taking it from you, captain!" I replied.
"No, no, he'll shoot himself," objected my father; "and that will not be so good as if he fell ower the cliffs. What will the lad want wi' a gun?"