"Black Hawk," said he, confidentially, "I want you to get the cook's axe, and go out on the martingale, and stand by to cut the line. I expect we shall be up with it now in about half an hour, and you must look sharp and cut it quick, or it will bring the ship up all standing."
"How big round is it?" asked the apparently innocent Black Hawk.
"About as thick as your arm; but if you get a good lick at it, you'll cut it in time, or at least cut some of the strands, so the ship will break it without stopping her."
"Do ships always have to cut the line when they pass along here, sir?" inquired the youngster, who was not half so green as his appearance indicated.
"Yes, certainly they do."
"And how does it get j'ined together again?"
"Why, old Neptune and his crew pick up the ends and splice it, after the ship has passed by," said Mr. Dunham, who was rather puzzled by this catechism, and did not quite understand the drift of it.
"And how long does it take 'em to get it j'ined again?"
"Well—I suppose it would take two or three hours to get the strands all tucked, and put it in good order."
"Well, sir, when I came down from aloft (you know I had the sundown masthead, sir), there was a ship in sight ahead, and I guess she must have cut it about an hour ago; so they haint got through j'inin' on it yet. I guess we can slip through, sir, while the bars are down." And the baffled second mate went aft with a flea in his ear.