‘Yes, sir,’ answered the fellow, who was indeed the head steward. ‘What’s the matter with that Chinese idiot?’ ‘Why, sir, his mistress’s parrot has escaped. He is responsible for the safe-keeping of the fowl, and he’s just missed him.’ ‘Then it’ll ha’ been that bloomin’ parrot that’s been a talking aloft,’ said a deep voice from near the pumps; but I noticed an uneasy shifting amongst some of the figures standing there, as though _that_ were a conjecture not to be too hastily received. ‘Here, John,’ shouted Mr. Cocker; ‘come up here, Johnny.’ The Chinaman, who continued to mutter ‘Oh-ai-O!’ whilst he gazed idiotically about him with much wringing of his hands, slowly and in attitudes of extreme misery, ascended the poop ladder. ‘Could this parrot talk, John?’ said Mr. Cocker. ‘Oh, him talkee lubberly. Him speakee like soul of Christian gen’man.’ ‘What could he say?’ shouted the second mate, evidently desirous that this conversation should be heard on the quarter-deck. ‘Oh, him say “you go dam,”’ cried John. ‘And what else?’ cried Mr. Cocker, smothering his laughter. ‘Oh, him say “Gib me egg for breakfiss;” and him laugh “haw-haw;” and him say “hook it” and “whach you wantee;” and he speakee better than common sailor-man;’ and here he burst out into another long wailing ‘Oh--ai--O! Him gone for drownded. Him gone for lost, I say!’ ‘Now you hear what this man says, my lads,’ called Mr. Cocker. ‘Jump aloft, those of you who are not _afraid_, and catch the bird if you can.’ The young fourth mate set the example; and in a trice a dozen sailors were running up the fore main and mizzen, where for a long half-hour they were bawling to one another, some of them feigning to have caught the bird, whilst they _kurikity-cooed_ at the top of their pipes, the Chinaman meanwhile shrieking with excitement as he ran from one mast to another. But it was all to no purpose. The bird had evidently gone overboard; probably had attempted a flight with its shorn pinions after the second of the men who had been frightened had come down in a hurry. The search was renewed next morning at daybreak; but poor Prince was gone for good. CHAPTER VI WE LOSE A MAN Spite of Mr. Cocker’s hints as to Captain Keeling’s timidity in the matter of canvas, the old skipper evidently knew what he was about in taking in his flying kites in good time, for whilst the seamen were still scrambling in the rigging and skylarking up there in search of the parrot, the breeze freshened in a long moaning gust over the rail, with a brighter flashing of the stars to windward, and a sudden stoop of the Indiaman that sent a line of water washing along her sides in milk; and at midnight she was bowing down with nothing showing above her main topgallant-sail to a strong wind off the beam, the stars gone, and a look of hard weather in the obscurity of the horizon.