“’Es, but I don’t want to know--like that!” cried Kiddiwee. “If he bites Cece, I’ll kill him dead! I will.” “Oh, I’M not frightened of a bird!” said Coppertop, “besides, he’s got quite a kind sort of face, hasn’t he?” “Thought you might like a lift, my hearties!” said the Albatross, abruptly, as he flew up. “Where are you bound?” “West Land, sir,” said Tibbs, who determined to humour the bird. “It’s a long, long way to----” “Is he going to sing ‘Tipperary?’” thought Coppertop. “West Land!” remarked the Albatross. “Get aboard, you lubbers--I’m sailing that way.” Coppertop didn’t know whether to be annoyed or not at being addressed as a “lubber,” but decided that the bird meant it kindly. “Not all on the starboard side, or we’ll capsize,” warned the Albatross, as the children hastened to avail themselves of his kind invitation. “Stow yourselves abaft the hatch between the main-sheets,” he directed. “But there aren’t any sheets!” said Coppertop, in bewilderment, “or even blankets!” although as she said this, it seemed to her that he was rather like a bed--a feather one. “He means his wings,” whispered Tibbs; “we must sit up here on his shoulders.” “Are you all aboard, my hearties?” “Aye, aye, sir!” answered Tibbs, in truly nautical style. And they started off. But the children found it rather hard to keep their balance, as the bird’s back was inclined to be slippery, and Kiddiwee slid backwards on to its tail. “Ahoy, there!” shouted the Albatross, “keep that young shaver off my steering gear!” And the other two hastily pulled him back. And now they were swaying and gliding in a most soothing way, and at a very good speed, over the deep blue waters. It was the strangest trip they had ever made, and quite one of the nicest. Sometimes they flew so low that they skimmed the water, and flecked it into a thousand glowing spray-bubbles, and the shadowy form of some large fish could be seen gliding along under the water, hoping for a chance nibble, if the Albatross should be foolish enough to settle. Then, again, they would glide upwards till they were on a level with the fleecy clouds, and the waves looked like ripples beneath them. “If that isn’t old Skipper Blubberkins, the Whale. What’s he doing up in these warm parts?” cried the Albatross. “With your permission, my hearties, we’ll just pull alongside and see what the old pirate has to say for hisself.” The Albatross certainly talked like a true old Salt, but whether he learnt it from the sailors, or the sailors learnt it from him, is a problem hard to decide--you never can tell. Skipper Blubberkins--the Whale--was asleep when they arrived, and looked much more like an island than a living animal. “He’s the hugestest person I’ve seen,” exclaimed Kiddiwee; “how ’normous his great-great-grandpapa must be!” He always had an idea that the word “great” before “grandpapa” referred to the size of that individual, and not to his place upon the family tree.