THE MONSTERS OF THE ATLANTIC. 165 



the sorrow seems all forgot, and the survivors dart 

 upon the bait as ravenously as before, and pay with 

 their lives the penalty of their folly or their courage. 



One morning, it was the fifth after we started, a 

 burning sun was melting the very pitch on the ship's 

 sides, and no one cared to come on deck but the 

 sailors on duty, for fear of sun-stroke. Even these 

 brave tars had covered their hats with large white 

 linen cloths. The cook came to my cabin to tell me 

 that the sea all round the San Christoval was 

 covered with dolphins, and this, according to friend 

 Daniel (which was the name of our cook), was a sign 

 of a favourable wind. 



I got upon the poop as soon as possible, and in 

 less than two hours Daniel and myself captured ten 

 dolphins by the aid of a slice of shark's flesh, a bait 

 which the dolphin prefers to any other. The dolphin 

 may, however, be classed among the gluttons, for he 

 will swallow anything when he is hungry, and I have 

 seen him caught with a bit of white cloth put upon 

 a hook. 



In spite of the crowds of dolphins which sported 

 on the starboard and larboard of the San Christoval 

 there was still no breeze, and captain, crew, and 

 passengers, were all getting out of patience. For 

 my part, however, I consoled myself with the fishing. 

 After breakfast, I threw my hook into the sea, and 

 soon had the pleasure of seeing a dolphin take my 

 bait and run out the line. Some of these fish were 



