“The skipper an’ the mate was still larfing very hearty when we heard a dreadful ’owl from the bridge, an’ one o’ the chaps suddenly leaves the wheel, jumps on to the deck, and bolts below as though he was mad. T’other one follows ’m a’most d’reckly, and the second mate caught hold o’ the wheel as he left it, and called out something we couldn’t catch to the skipper. “‘What the d——’s the matter?’ yells the skipper. “The mate pointed to starboard, but as ’is ’and was shaking so that one minute it was pointing to the sky an’ the next to the bottom o’ the sea, it wasn’t much of a guide to us. Even when he got it steady we couldn’t see anything, till all of a sudden, about two miles off, something like a telegraph pole stuck up out of the water for a few seconds, and then ducked down again and made straight for the ship. “Sam was the fust to speak, and, without wasting time stuttering or stammering, he said he’d go down and see about that bit o’ bread, an’ he went afore the skipper or the mate could stop ’im. “In less than ’arf a minute there was only the three officers an’ me on deck. The second mate was holding the wheel, the skipper was holding his breath, and the first mate was holding me. It was one o’ the most exciting times I ever had. “‘Better fire the gun at it,’ ses the skipper, in a trembling voice, looking at the little brass cannon we had for signalling. “‘Better not give him any cause for offence,’ ses the mate, shaking his head. “‘I wonder whether it eats men,’ ses the skipper. ‘Perhaps it’ll come for some of us.’ “‘There ain’t many on deck for it to choose from,’ ses the mate, looking at ’im significant like. “‘That’s true,’ ses the skipper, very thoughtful; ‘I’ll go an’ send all hands on deck. As captain, it’s my duty not to leave the ship till the _last_, if I can anyways help it.’ “How he got them on deck has always been a wonder to me, but he did it. He was a brutal sort o’ a man at the best o’ times, an’ he carried on so much that I s’pose they thought even the sarpint couldn’t be worse. Anyway, up they came, an’ we all stood in a crowd watching the sarpint as it came closer and closer. “We reckoned it to be about a hundred yards long, an’ it was about the most awful-looking creetur you could ever imagine. If you took all the ugliest things in the earth and mixed ’em up—gorillas an’ the like—you’d only make a hangel compared to what that was. It just hung off our quarter, keeping up with us, and every now and then it would open its mouth and let us see about four yards down its throat. “‘It seems peaceable,’ whispers the fust mate, arter awhile. “‘P’raps it ain’t hungry,’ ses the skipper. ‘We’d better not let it get peckish. Try it with a loaf o’ bread.’