"These things, or creatures that you say come out of the sea," he said. "You've never seen them, except after nightfall?" he asked. "No, Sir," I replied. "Never." He turned to the Second Mate. "So far as I can make out, Mr. Tulipson," he remarked, "the danger seems
to be only at night." "It's always been at night, Sir," the Second answered. The Old Man nodded. "Have you anything to propose, Mr. Tulipson?" he asked. "Well, Sir," replied the Second Mate. "I think you ought to have her
snugged down every night, before dark!" He spoke with considerable emphasis. Then he glanced aloft, and jerked
his head in the direction of the unfurled t'gallants. "It's a damned good thing, Sir," he said, "that it didn't come on to
blow any harder." The Old Man nodded again. "Yes," he remarked. "We shall have to do it; but God knows when we'll
get home!" "Better late than not at all," I heard the Second mutter, under his
breath. Out loud, he said:

"And the lights, Sir?" "Yes," said the Old Man. "I will have lamps in the rigging every night,
after dark." "Very good, Sir," assented the Second. Then he turned to us. "It's getting daylight, Jessop," he remarked, with a glance at the sky. "You'd better take Tammy with you, and shove those lamps back again into
the locker." "i, i, Sir," I said, and went down off the poop with Tammy. XIII


_The Shadow in the Sea_


When eight bells went, at four o'clock, and the other watch came on deck
to relieve us, it had been broad daylight for some time. Before we went
below, the Second Mate had the three t'gallants set; and now that it was
light, we were pretty curious to have a look aloft, especially up the
fore; and Tom, who had been up to overhaul the gear, was questioned a
lot, when he came down, as to whether there were any signs of anything
queer up there. But he told us there was nothing unusual to be seen. At eight o'clock, when we came on deck for the eight to twelve watch, I
saw the Sailmaker coming forrard along the deck, from the Second Mate's
old berth. He had his rule in his hand, and I knew he had been measuring
the poor beggars in there, for their burial outfit. From breakfast time
until near noon, he worked, shaping out three canvas wrappers from some
old sailcloth. Then, with the aid of the Second Mate and one of the
hands, he brought out the three dead chaps on to the after hatch, and
there sewed them up, with a few lumps of holy stone at their feet. He
was just finishing when eight bells went, and I heard the Old Man tell
the Second Mate to call all hands aft for the burial. This was done, and
one of the gangways unshipped. We had no decent grating big enough, so they had to get off one of the
hatches, and use it instead. The wind had died away during the morning,
and the sea was almost a calm--the ship lifting ever so slightly to an
occasional glassy heave. The only sounds that struck on the ear were the
soft, slow rustle and occasional shiver of the sails, and the continuous
and monotonous creak, creak of the spars and gear at the gentle
movements of the vessel. And it was in this solemn half-quietness that
the Skipper read the burial service. They had put the Dutchman first upon the hatch (I could tell him by his
stumpiness), and when at last the Old Man gave the signal, the Second
Mate tilted his end, and he slid off, and down into the dark. "Poor old Dutchie," I heard one of the men say, and I fancy we all felt
a bit like that. Then they lifted Jacobs on to the hatch, and when he had gone, Jock. When Jock was lifted, a sort of sudden shiver ran through the crowd. He
had been a favourite in a quiet way, and I know I felt, all at once,
just a bit queer. I was standing by the rail, upon the after bollard,
and Tammy was next to me; while Plummer stood a little behind. As the
Second Mate tilted the hatch for the last time, a little, hoarse chorus
broke from the men:

"S'long, Jock! So long, Jock!" And then, at the sudden plunge, they rushed to the side to see the last
of him as he went downwards. Even the Second Mate was not able to resist
this universal feeling, and he, too, peered over. From where I had been
standing, I had been able to see the body take the water, and now, for a
brief couple of seconds, I saw the white of the canvas, blurred by the
blue of the water, dwindle and dwindle in the extreme depth. Abruptly,
as I stared, it disappeared--too abruptly, it seemed to me. "Gone!" I heard several voices say, and then our watch began to go
slowly forrard, while one or two of the other, started to replace the
hatch. Tammy pointed, and nudged me. "See, Jessop," he said. "What is it?" "What?" I asked. "That queer shadow," he replied. "Look!" And then I saw what he meant. It was something big and shadowy, that
appeared to be growing clearer. It occupied the exact place--so it
seemed to me--in which Jock had disappeared. "Look at it!" said Tammy, again. "It's getting bigger!" He was pretty excited, and so was I.

I was peering down. The thing seemed to be rising out of the depths. It
was taking shape. As I realised what the shape was, a queer, cold funk
took me. "See," said Tammy. "It's just like the shadow of a ship!" And it was. The shadow of a ship rising out of the unexplored immensity
beneath our keel. Plummer, who had not yet gone forrard, caught Tammy's
last remark, and glanced over. "What's 'e mean?" he asked. "That!" replied Tammy, and pointed. I jabbed my elbow into his ribs; but it was too late. Plummer had seen. Curiously enough, though, he seemed to think nothing of it. "That ain't nothin', 'cept ther shadder er ther ship," he said. Tammy, after my hint, let it go at that. But when Plummer had gone
forrard with the others, I told him not to go telling everything round
the decks, like that. "We've got to be thundering careful!" I remarked. "You know what the Old
Man said, last watch!" "Yes," said Tammy. "I wasn't thinking; I'll be careful next time." A little way from me the Second Mate was still staring down into the
water. I turned, and spoke to him. "What do you make it out to be, Sir?" I asked. "God knows!" he said, with a quick glance round to see whether any of
the men were about. He got down from the rail, and turned to go up on to the poop. At the
top of the ladder, he leant over the break. "You may as well ship that gangway, you two," he told us. "And mind,
Jessop, keep your mouth shut about this." "i, i, Sir," I answered. "And you too, youngster!" he added and went aft along the poop. Tammy and I were busy with the gangway when the Second came back. He had
brought the Skipper. "Right under the gangway, Sir" I heard the Second say, and he pointed
down into the water. For a little while, the Old Man stared. Then I heard him speak. "I don't see anything," he said. At that, the Second Mate bent more forward and peered down. So did I;
but the thing, whatever it was, had gone completely. "It's gone, Sir," said the Second. "It was there right enough when I
came for you."