“Was it in English?” said Greaves. “It was ‘ship ahoy,’ sir, very plain indeed, but thin, more distant than before, I fancy, and still off the larboard bow.” At this instant there was a great commotion forward; I heard laughter, the cackling of affrighted cocks and hens, followed by a shout in the voice of the boy Jimmy: “Here’s the chap as has been a-hailing, master.” A singular noise of the beating of wings approached us, and I discerned the figure of the boy Jimmy, as he stood before us grasping something. “Shall I wring un’s neck, master?” he cried, with a note of idiotic mirth in his voice. “What the devil is all this about?” shouted Greaves. “What have you there?” “The big Chaney cock with the croup, master,” answered the boy. I burst into a laugh, but a laugh that, perhaps, was not wanting in a little touch of hysteria, so poignant was the feeling of relief after the deep uneasiness of the last quarter of an hour. The men, heedless of the discipline of the vessel, had come pressing aft in the wake of the boy, and forward there continued a wild concert of cocks and hens cackling furiously. “Fetch a lantern, one of you,” bawled Greaves; “curse that poultry! Who started them all? That row’s as bad as a flare if there’s anything near on the lookout for us.” A lantern was brought and the glare of it disclosed the tall, muscular, knock-kneed form of the youth Jimmy, grasping by the neck a huge, long-legged, ostrich-shaped cock, of the kind known as Cochin China. The faces of the seamen crowding aft to hear and see showed past him in phantom countenances, contorted out of all resemblance to themselves by their grins and stare of expectation, and by the dim light that touched them, and by the deep darkness behind them. “What have you got there?” cried Greaves. “It’s the big cock, master. He’s croupy,” answered the lad in his imbecile voice, continuing to grasp the fowl so tightly by the neck that, croup or no croup, the thing hung silent, as though dead, save that now and again it would give an uneasy, sick, protesting flap of its wings. “He wasn’t well this afternoon no, master. I was passing the coop, when I heard him sing out, ‘Ship ahoy!’ and I stopped to listen, and he sung out, ‘Ship ahoy!’ again. He was standing on one leg and the skin of his eyes was half drawed down, and I speaks to the cook about him, who tells me to go and be d----d.” “He gooms, captain, vhen I vhas busy mit der crew’s supper; I had shcalded myself. No vonder I spheaks short,” exclaimed the voice of the cook among the crowd behind the lad. “Bear a hand with your yarn, Jimmy!” cried Greaves.