Still the shadowy outline of the schooner, like a dark phantom stalking over the deep, could be discerned ahead. A vigilant lookout was kept, but hour after hour went by and the brig appeared to have got no nearer to her than at first. Jack and most of his officers remained on deck. Towards morning the distance seemed somewhat lessened. He had his eyes on the chase, and could not help hoping that by daylight they might be near enough to try what Long Tom could do, when the sails of the schooner began to grow less and less distinct. He had a moment before seen her; he rubbed his eyes; she had disappeared! It was very provoking, still he could but hope that in the morning they would again get sight of her. Ordering the same course to be kept, he at length turned in, desiring to be immediately called should she be again seen.
When morning broke, a mist, similar to that which had risen the previous day, obscured all distant objects. A lookout was sent aloft, but he could see nothing; and when the sun rose in the sky, and the mist dispersed, the chase was nowhere visible.
“Better luck next time,” observed Jack, when he came on deck, and he ordered the brig to be kept on her proper course for Saint Antonio, the westernmost point of Cuba. Several vessels were sighted during the day, but they were too far off to make it worth while, Jack considered, to go out of his course to speak them.
The midshipmen employed themselves in a variety of ways. Tom had, of course, brought Spider, who assisted them to idle away many a spare hour.
Tom and Desmond one day amused themselves by making a target of a piece of canvas. It was painted in circles of different colours, with a yellow bull’s-eye in the usual fashion. This was suspended by a line at the end of a spar, rigged from the fore yardarm, on about a level with the bulwarks, and well answered the purpose intended. With half-a-dozen ship’s pistols they began blazing away, sometimes hitting the mark, though as often, it must be confessed, missing it. Tom proved himself decidedly the best shot. Desmond declared that his pistol somehow or other shot crooked whenever he failed to hit the target. They thus passed away many an hour in calm weather, and Jack considered that the powder was well expended, as it taught them how to handle their weapons.
McTavish and the purser in the meantime got out lines and hooks baited simply with pieces of canvas, the former wishing to obtain some dolphins for examination, which had been seen darting through the water on either side of the brig.
“Hurrah!” exclaimed McTavish, “I have got hold of a big fellow at last. Lend a hand to haul him in, Norris.” In another minute a good-sized fish was hauled on deck.
“Do you call that a dolphin?” said Tom. “I thought a dolphin was a fellow with a big head and large fins, of all the colours of the rainbow.”
“It is undoubtedly a dolphin,” answered McTavish. “If you haul it out of the shade of the bulwarks, you will see that it is of cerulean hue. There, it won’t retain that colour long; it’s changing already. Now it is purple, and before long, as its life ebbs, it will become black. But hurrah! I have another bite.”
Three other dolphins were hauled up in quick succession, and taken forward to be anatomised by the surgeon.