The men having little else to do, obtained from the captain permission to fish. Directly they had hauled in a dozen or more of the most ill-favored, shapeless, unchristian-looking articles I ever clapped eyes on, which, when I came from aft, were dancing their death jigs on the forecastle-deck, much to the diversion of the captain's black waiter, Essequibo. "Halloo!--this way, blackey!" shouted an old tar to the merry African, who, by the way, was a kind of reference table for the whole crew--"Egad! Billy, look here,--what do you call this comical looking devil that has helped himself to my hook? Why! his body is as long as the articles of discipline, and his mouth almost as long as his body!--your own main-hatch-way is not a circumstance to it!" "Him be one gar fish--ocium gar!--he no good for eat," answered the black with a grin that drew the corners of his mouth almost back to his ears, so that, to appearance, small was the hinge that kept brain and body together. At the sight the querist dropped the fish, exclaiming with feigned wonder, "By all that's crooked, an even bet!--ar'n't your mouth made ov injy rubber, Billy!" "Good ting to hab de larsh mout, Misser Mongo,--eat de more--lib de longer," said Billy. "Screw your blinkers this way, Jack Simpson, there's a prize for you," said another, as he dragged a huge lump-headed, bull-eyed, tail-less mass out of the water, with fins protruding, like thorns, from every part of his body!--"Guess he's one of the fighting cocks down below, seeing his spurs!--any how, he's well armed,--I'll be keel-hauled, if he don't look like the beauty that we saw carved out on the Frencher's stern, with the Neptune bestride it, in Havana, barin' he wants a tail! Han't he a queer un?--but how in natur do you suppose he makes out to steer without a rudder?" "Steer wid he head turn behin' him!" answered Seignor Essequibo, bursting into a chuckling laugh--mightily tickled with the struggles of the ungainly monster,--"Che, che, che!--him sea-dragum--catch um plenty on de cos ob Barbado. Take care ob him horn!" "Yo, heave, ho! Shaint Pathrick, an' it's me what's caught a whale!" drawled out a brawny Patlander, while he tugged and sweated to heave in his prize. "My gorra! you hook one barracouter!" cried Billy, as his eye caught a glimpse of the big fish curveting in the water at the end of Paddy's line,--"Bes' fish in de worl'!--good for make um chowder--good for fry--for ebery ting,--me help you pull him in, Massa Coulan," and without further ado, he laid hold of the line. The beautiful fish was hauled in, and consigned to the custody of the cook. "Stave in my bulwarks, if this 'ere dragon-fish ha'n't stuck one of his horns into my foot an inch deep!" roared an old marine,--"Hand me that sarving mallet, snow ball, I'll see if I can't give him a hint to behave better!"