At last they came to rest by the gateway of the amphitheater fifty yards or so off bottom. Immediately a host of small fish swam up beside them, pushing and struggling for the best view of the parade. Gray police sharks drifted slowly up and down the line.
At a signal from the President, a huge sawfish approached and saluted with a sweep of his tail. He had small up-staring eyes and moved his saw sideways like a scythe.
‘All present, Mr. President,’ he intoned.
The right whale returned the salute and ordered, ‘Carry on.’
The sawfish saluted again and withdrew. The light was growing dimmer. Shadows clung to the rock floor, and Raphael had difficulty in seeing the black cliffs across the arena.
The review began in silence. Two Admirals, a swordfish and a sawfish, followed by four Rear Admirals, passed slowly before the President. Behind them swam, rank on rank, the Navy of the Atlantic led by a brilliant band of drum and trumpet fish. Eight deep they drifted past the reviewing stand in massed companies of a hundred—swordfish, sawfish, spearfish, porpoises, leopard sharks, devilfish, sting rays, and even a company of octopi which sculled along in the rear.
Behind them followed a second division composed of smaller fish led by a sergeant major and queen trigger fish with a host of flying-fish for scouts.
When the Navy had swum majestically out of the gateway, the crowd broke up into noisy little groups of non-combatants. Raphael saw a gathering of crabs arguing among themselves, while a large blue-green lobster ambled over to join the fight. A starfish, unmindful of the excitement, slept like a red rubber sponge on a coral ledge.
The ocean silence grew more oppressive as the light failed. Raphael was watching a hermit crab scuttle round hunting for an empty shell to hide in, when the sea horse swam up.
‘That creature killed both of the octopi guards,’ he said. ‘There must have been a terrible fight. What do you suppose he was doing here?’