"That was the first v'y'ge I was in the Colossus. This old man was mate with us then. I trusted to an old 'Cholo' here; he said he'd stow me away where all creation couldn't find me. Well, he did till the old man offered, twenty dollars bounty for me, for you see he couldn't go to sea without _me_ nohow, and then the old mongrel sold me to get the reward. He just went out and informed where I was, and the mate (that's the old man now) came and roused me out of my hiding-place, and told me I'd be wiser next time than to trust one of them yaller scoundrels. And so I have been. Gi'me white or black, I say; for where you mix 'em, you spile two good things." CHAPTER XIV. THE BILL-FISH.--THE MARQUESAS.--A PRISONER AMONG THE SAVAGES. Down the coasts of Chili and Peru we pursued our voyage, and then off-shore among the Galapagos, or "Galleypaguses" as my ebony friends Jeff and the doctor would say. Here we took one large whale, but the fleet was numerous, and, from all that we could learn, they not were doing wonders, and the old man expressed his opinion that there was not more than a whale apiece for all those ships; so we carried sail again to the westward, running down the equator to the longitude of 120 to 130 degrees west. Here we met with good success, taking some four hundred barrels in the next four months. We spoke perhaps a dozen ships during that time, and all were doing a fair season's work. No incident of note occurred during this pleasant cruise, till near the end of it; in fact, we had already kept off to make a port at one of the Marquesas Islands, which lay conveniently under our lee. A school of bonitas or "skipjacks," as we more commonly call them, had attached themselves to us, and kept company for several days. These fish cannot be said to _follow_ a ship, but rather lead, for they almost invariably keep ahead of her, sporting around the bow. We were running perhaps four or five knots an hour with moderate trades, and the fish were gambolling ahead of us, as usual, when Manoel, in the fore-topgallant crosstrees, sung out: "Bill-fish!" "Whereaway?" asked the mate. "Little on weather bow," said Manoel. "He come this way. Chase that skeep_shack_." "O, I see him!" said Father Grafton. "Give me an iron here! Never mind, here's the porpoise-iron, all rigged! Get another iron, Blacksmith, and look out for him!"