sunning herself
on deck, I was keeping out of her way. Miss Kitty was reading, and Mr
Falconer was pacing up and down, as officer of the watch, taking care
not to approach her till Mrs Podgers should dive below. Most of the
crew were knitting and splicing, spinning yarns, or performing other
work, of which there is always plenty to be done on board ship, while
some few of them were lying lazily about, doing nothing.

I have not before mentioned a personage who was dubbed the officer of
marines, Lieutenant Pyke. His figure was tall and thin, as the
captain's was short and broad, and though their noses were much of the
same colour, being as red as strong potations and hot suns could
possibly make them, Lieutenant Pyke's was enormously long. He was now
engaged in drilling twelve of the most ruffianly and ill-conditioned of
the crew, whom he called his jollies. They were of various heights and
dimensions, and though they wore red coats and belts, knee-breeches and
gaiters, and carried muskets, they were, as Dick, who held them in
supreme contempt, declared, "as unlike sodgers as they could well be."
Lieutenant Pyke, however, was proud of them, and boasted that they would
follow him to the cannon's mouth, whenever he led the way.

"Likely enough they will," observed Dick, "because, you see, there's
little chance of the lieutenant ever getting there."

He had for some time been drilling these troops of his, as he also
occasionally designated the fellows, making them march up and down, and
pointing every now and then to an imaginary enemy, whom he ordered them
to charge and annihilate, when there came a shout from aloft, "There she
blows!" In a moment all the crew jumped to their feet. Our stout
captain tumbled up from below, crying out, "Where away!" and four boats
being lowered and manned, off they pulled, led by Mr Falconer in the
direction in which the look-out pointed. We could see, about a quarter
of a mile from the ship, a huge hump projecting three feet out of the
water, while from the fore part of the monster's enormous head arose at
the end of every ten seconds a white jet of foam.

"There again! there again!" shouted the crew. Away dashed the boats at
full speed.

"His spoutings are nearly out," said Dick.

"He is going down," cried others.

Again a spout rose, and we could see the small, as it is called, of his
back rise preparatory to his descent.

"His tail will be up directly," said Dick, "and