re, to the great
satisfaction of the doctor, who was in a high state of delight, for he
had been harvesting, as he termed it--bottling, Joe Cross said--
numberless specimens of the strange creatures that swarm upon the
surface of the southern Atlantic. And as they had got out so far, the
doctor had been sounding Captain Chubb as to the possibility and
advisability of making for that strange volcanic island known as
Trinidad--not the richly verdant island of the same name that seems as
if it had been once a portion of the north-east shoulder of
leg-of-mutton-like South America, but the solitary island right away
south-east from Bahia, which stands lonely in the ocean, the remains of
the great volcanic eminence swept by the terrific seas and tempests that
come up from the South Polar Ocean--an island that is the habitat of
strange sea-birds, the haunt of fish, and the home and empire of those
most hideous of the crustaceans, the land crabs.

Captain Chubb grunted and said he would think about it and consult the
chart. As for the brig, Rodd did not banter Morny upon the subject when
he came aboard, as he did pretty well every day when Rodd and his uncle
had not visited the brig; but it was a standing joke between the lad and
Uncle Paul that King Dagobert had not sighted the sea-serpent as yet.

"And it's my belief, Pickle, that they are going the wrong way to work."

"Why, what would you do, then, uncle?"

"Well, I'll tell you, my boy. He's a very shy bird, and if he knows you
are looking for him he won't show. If you and I take up the search I
tell you what we'll do; we won't look for him; we'll let him look for
us."

"According to that, then, uncle, we are more likely to find him than
they are."

"Of course, my boy. Why, haven't we proved it?"

They were down in the laboratory, where Joe Cross had been helping them
over the bottling, but he had gone up on deck, the day's task being
over, and the skipper now came down, looked and snorted at the fresh
regiment of bottles, and made some remark about the doctor seeming out
of spirits. But he did not mean it for a joke. Captain Chubb never did
joke, for he was one of those men who pass their lives looking out for
squalls, and his allusion was to the emptiness of the doctor's set of
kegs.

"Well, it doesn't matter," said the doctor. "Sit down and let's talk.
I have got quite as many preparations in spirits as will last me for
years. By the way, did you think