“And so am I,” said the Baron. “And now I propose, as it is getting late, and I feel sleepiness stealing over my eyelids, that we turn into our bunks and resign ourselves to the keeping of the drowsy god.”
“I don’t know what you mean by talking of the drowsy god,” said the skipper. “As far as I can make out, you intend to take a snooze; that’s the best thing you can do.”
The Count and the Baron accordingly turned into
their berths (not knocking their heads more than half-a-dozen times as they did so), and were very soon snoring away in concert. So ended the first day of their voyages and travels.
Chapter Three.
“A fair wind, Mynheers! a fair wind!” shouted Captain Jan Dunck down the cabin skylight. “Rouse up, rouse up; come on deck and see how the Golden Hog is walking along.”
“Walking along, what does he mean? do ships walk?” asked the Count, as, having turned out of his bunk and rubbed his eyes and yawned and stretched himself, he was beginning to dress.