, and prove a better dish than salt pork. How many are
there of them?"

"Five or six, I think," said Willy.

"Well, hand them to me, and I'll put a stop to their crawling
propensities. They would frighten the ladies if they were to make their
way into the cabin."

The doctor had got out his knife, and was engaged in scientifically
depriving the creatures of life. This done, they were stowed away in
the stern-sheets.

"A covey of flying-fish would have been more acceptable," observed the
doctor, as he again composed himself to rest; "but they are not to be
found in these latitudes."

Two or three people, awakened by the doctor's voice, inquired what was
the matter.

"Only a few squids come on board to be cooked for breakfast," answered
Willy. Those who had spoken, satisfied with the reply, were quickly
again asleep.

Silence once more reigned on board, broken only by the snores of the
sleepers, though the blowing of whales or other cetacea could be heard
every now and then, now in the distance, now somewhat nearer; and Willy
hoped that in the morning they might be successful in catching some of
the smaller ones, and obtain a supply of oil. Some time thus passed
away; the first watch was nearly over, when he was startled by hearing a
loud hail astern. Unwilling to awaken the ladies, he refrained from
replying. He could just then distinguish the splash of oars; and
straining his eyes through the darkness, he at last made out a boat
approaching. He had no doubt she was the cutter, and he hoped to
receive good tidings of those on board. As she drew near, he heard
every now and then a strange wild shout, and several persons speaking.
At length the boat came close up under the stern of the launch.

"Is that the cutter of His Majesty's ship `Ranger?'" asked Willy.

"Ay, ay," answered a voice, which he knew to be that of Roger Bollard,
the boatswain.

"Why, Mr Bollard, what is the matter?" he inquired.

"One of our people has lost his wits, and if you have the doctor aboard,
we wish he could see what he can do for him."

"Who is he?" asked Willy.

"Mr Holt, sir."

The doctor had started up on hearing Willy speaking. Roger Bollard
repeated what he had before said. "Clap a strait-waistcoat on him, and
keep his head cool," cried the doctor, sitting up. "I'll see him in the
morning; I cannot do him much good now."

"But he may be overboard before then, sir," answered Bollard. "It's a
hard job to kee