“DO these belong to you, my dears?” said a large voice behind them, as they were sailing peacefully along on the old Bed.
And looking round, they beheld a black form towering above them.
“It’s old Skipper Blubberkins—the Whale!” exclaimed Tibbs.
“I found these floating around,” continued their huge friend, “after you left. I shouldn’t wonder but what they were washed off by that sudden shower we had,” he added, gurgling gleefully at the remembrance of his little joke, at the same time holding up an immense fin, upon which lay three pairs of gauzy wings.
“Oh, you dear, great person!” cried Coppertop. And I think that she would have embraced him, then and there, had there been any part small enough for her to put her arms round.
“Thanks awfully. You’re an old sport!” cried Tibbs.
And Kiddiwee lisped, “You’re the beautifullest whale of all the whales, you are!”
And the Whale was so overcome by all this praise, that he dived beneath the waves to hide his blushes.
A gentle breeze sprang up, and the old bed sailed merrily over the waves with her cargo of happy adventurers.
They were sailing so fast that Coppertop felt sure that they would catch the West Wind before he blew away to his home in Africa.
Tibbs climbed up one of the posts—or “masts,” as he called them—to keep a look-out for land ahead. And Kiddiwee steered the ship with a large piece of seaweed.
“We shall be there in almost no time at this rate,” said Coppertop gleefully, watching the foaming trail they were leaving behind.
“Will you?” cried a spiteful voice in her ear, as a little gust of wind shot by.
Coppertop shivered! It sounded unpleasantly like the Clerk of the Weather.
“Will you?” came the voice again. And this time it arose to a scream. And a sharp gust of wind lashed the sea-spray in her face.
“Storm brewing!” called out Tibbs, from the masthead. “Furl the sails!”
The other two ran to carry out the orders, folding up the curtains against the bed-posts as fast as they could. But they were just too late!
In that moment the full force of the gale burst upon them.
It wrenched the curtains from their hands and tore them to shreds! It blew Tibbs from the main-mast, and whirled him far up into the air! It beat upon the sea till the waves rose up in anger, and the peaceful ocean became a fury of troubled waters!
The old Bed struggled bravely to keep her head above the waves, but she could not be expected to swim in such a gale.
After floating about helplessly for some time, she slowly sank beneath the angry sea.
Coppertop clung to the bulgy pillow, which floated like a raft, and Kiddiwee took refuge upon one of the carved bed-posts, which had been broken off by the first blast of the gale, and floated away on the waves.
Soon the great mountains of water hid them from each other, and Coppertop was all alone.