It was a curious sight to see the rapidity with which a scrap of biscuit or fat was darted upon, and borne aloft by the hungry birds; but somehow in the grey cloud of feathers wheeling round and rising and falling above the glittering sea, Steve seemed to see the mocking face of Watty, who, smarting from the contempt with which he had been treated, snatched at the opportunity for triumphing over the other's misfortune; and he could not have selected a way more likely to sting him than by a display of derision. "Verra beautiful, Meester Young, isn't it?" said a voice, and Steve turned sharply to find it was the Scottish sailor who had approached unheard. "What, the sparkling sea, Andra?" "Nay, the burruds, sir. Look at the pretty things. It minds me o' being in Loch Fyne, coming down from Crinan in ane o' Meester Macbrayne's bonnie boats on the way to Glasgie." "Does it? I've never been there." "Eh, then she ha'e lost a gran' treat, laddie. There's plenty o' watter here, but never a mountain, nor a toon glinting oot o' the shore. Look yonder, laddie; there's a bit of a fesh." "Porpoise!" cried Steve excitedly; "and another, and another. Why, there's a regular shoal." "Ay, after the herrin', maybe, laddie. See how they come up and turn over, and dive doon again. Canny kind o' fesh a porpoise, but they're much finer than these in the Clyde. I'm thenking, though, that we'll ha'e to shorten sail a wee. It means wint." Captain Marsham was evidently of the same opinion, for coming on deck soon after he gave orders which resulted in a little of the canvas being lowered down, and the _Hvalross_ then steadily continued her course without sending the spray scattering in a brilliant shower over the forward part of the deck. While this was being done Steve passed the galley door again, and bit his lip, for Watty, taking advantage of the cook's back being turned, thrust out his head as if by accident, gave a sham start as if astonished to see Steve, burst into a silent fit of laughter, which he pretended to smother, and drew his head in again. "I wonder whether it would hurt my shoulder much if I were to punch his head?" thought Steve. He walked on, feeling that he ought to treat the annoyance with contempt; but even as he felt this he could not help looking back, when he saw that Watty was watching him, but clapped his hand over his mouth and drew in his head directly. This was repeated again and again that day, as if the boy found some satisfaction for his disgrace in annoying some one of his own years. Steve pretended not to heed it; but so sure as he went forward Watty's head was thrust out of the galley, and drawn back again, apparently to conceal the uncontrollable mirth from which the lad pretended to be suffering; while in spite of Steve's efforts all this stung him more and more, till he felt as if he must do something by way of revenge.