whole crew,--those of the
Coromantee among the rest,--became once more directed to that which had
occupied their attention previous to receiving the shock,--the strange
behaviour of the frigate-bird.

This creature was still down on the surface of the water, darting from
point to point, fluttering and flopping, and throwing up the little
clouds of spray, that, surrounding it like a nimbus, seemed to follow it
wherever it went!

Though Ben Brace and Snowball had been able to explain the action of the
fish, they were both at fault about the behaviour of the bird. In all
their sea experience neither had ever witnessed the like conduct
before,--either on the part of a frigate-bird, or any other bird of the
ocean.

For a long time they stood watching the creature, and exchanging
conjectures as to the cause of its singular action. It was clear this
was not voluntary; for its movements partook of the nature of a
struggle. Besides, its screams,--to which it gave an almost continuous
utterance,--betokened either terror or pain, or both.

But why did it keep to the surface of the sea, when it was well-known to
be a bird that could rise almost vertically into the air, and to the
highest point that winged creatures might ascend?

This was the query to which neither sailor nor sea-cook could give a
reply, either with positive truth or probable conjecture.

For full ten minutes it remained unanswered; that is, ten minutes after
the sword-fish adventure had ended, and twenty from the time the
frigate-bird had been seen to swoop at the flying-fish. Then, however,
the problem received its solution; and the play of the _Pelicanus
aquila_ was at length explained.

It was no play on the part of the unfortunate bird, but a case of
involuntary and fearful captivity.

The bird had begun to show symptoms of exhaustion, and as its strength
became enfeebled, its wings flopped more gently against the water, the
spray no longer rose around it, and the sea underneath was less
agitated.

The spectators could now see that it was not alone. Beneath, and
apparently clutching it by the leg, was a fish whose shape, size, and
sheen of azure hue proclaimed it an albacore,--no doubt, the one that
simultaneously with the bird itself had been balked in the pursuit of
the flying-fish.

So far the detention of the frigate-bird upon the surface of the sea was
explained; but not sufficiently. There was still cause for conjecture.
The albacore