s much smaller than the black-fish which had come to such
an untimely end when assailed by the thresher, being scarcely longer
than thirty-two feet. Maurice was especially credited with the
cetacean's discovery, because, when he noticed the spout of spray the
animal threw up from his blow-holes in the distance, he surprised
everybody by calling out that he could see one of the Crystal Palace
fountains--getting much laughed at, as might have been expected, for the
naive announcement.

As those on board watched, they could see the whale every now and then
heave himself out of the water, half the length of his long dark body,
and fall "flop" down again, with a concussion that sent up the water
around him in white surf, like breakers. After this little diversion,
he amused himself with swimming backwards and forwards past the ship, as
if just showing what he could do, at a great rate; exposing only a thin
streak of his back and the fin and tail, but making the sea boil up as
if a plough were going through it, and leaving a wake behind him like
that of a paddle-wheel steamer--finally starting off suddenly due north,
as if he had all at once recollected an appointment in that direction,
when he soon disappeared from sight.

The flying-fish and dolphins, bonetas and sharks, like the "Portuguese
men-of-war," were long since all left behind; but their places were
taken by the albatross, the Cape pigeon, the shearwater, and a sea-bird
called the "parson," dozens of which flew about the ship every day.

The shearwater was a larger species of tern, or sea-swallow; the
"parson," so called for his sombre appearance and sedate manner, was a
kind of sable gull about the size of an English crow. His colour,
however, was not black, but a dusky brownish black, as if the reverend
gentleman's coat had got rusty from wear. These birds had a very odd,
"undertakerish" air about them, which amused Maurice and Florry very
much, and some having venerable white heads, which appeared as if
powdered with flour, like a footman's for a party, were so much more
eccentric looking, that even the grave Mrs Major Negus could not help
smiling at their appearance and queer ways.

"Do look, papa!" exclaimed Kate--who during the voyage would at one time
be in the highest spirits, and the next pensive, as if occupied by a
world of thought--"I declare if that one isn't the very image of Mr
Trotter, our curate at Allington! He has the same little tuft of