Just then the doctor gave Sir John a dig in the ribs with his elbow, as much as to say, "Now, who's right?" While mentally agreeing that his friend was, Sir John moved out of the way, so as not to receive another poke.
Then followed rather a learned discourse from the doctor on the peculiarities of the wonderful little creatures which swarmed in the bucket, whose contents in the light seemed to be so much clear sea-water, but which in the darkness flamed with light as soon as it was disturbed by a hand being passed quickly through.
"Why, it makes my hand tingle and smart just slightly," said Jack.
"Oh yes," said the mate. "If you bathe in a sea like this you can feel quite an irritation of the skin, while the large jelly-fish sting like a nettle."
"Then are these jelly-fish?"
"Yes, almost invisible ones," replied the doctor.
"But it seems so strange. Why is it?" said Jack.
"Well, we know that fish prey upon these things wholesale, and my theory is that the tiny things have the stinging power as a defence by day, and the ability to light up to make the fish think they will burn their mouths at night and leave them alone. Sounds absurd, eh? But I believe that's it."
Jack spent an hour having bucketfuls of water drawn up from the spots where the luminous cold fire seemed to burn most fiercely, the mate and Edward, called in to assist, entering into the business with the greatest of enthusiasm, and helping, after Sir John and the doctor had gone, in another way, fetching tumblers and a glass globe from the steward, Edward having to carry these well-filled into the cabin, where, chuckling to himself, the doctor brought out his small microscope, and using a tiny water-trough designed for the purpose, proceeded to examine these little wonders of the world.
Gibraltar was reached a couple of days later, and a very brief stay made, Jack contenting himself with watching the huge mass of rock with his binocular. Then away over the rather rough sea, with a favourable wind, they ran for Naples, where it grew calmer, and at night the slow from the summit of the burning mountain was seen reflected on the clouds, while by day these clouds could be seen to be of smoke.
On again for the Canal, and the doctor confided to Sir John his belief that he was a little anxious now.
"It will be so tremendously hot down the Red Sea, that I'm afraid it will upset the lad; so as you are getting up steam for the run through the Canal, if the wind is light or contrary, I should use the screw till we get to Aden."
"And make up our coal-bunkers there," said the captain. "Yes; good advice, sir, for that is about the hottest place I know; but it's not often we get a contrary wind for the _Silver Star_. She'll sail closer to the wind's eye than anything I ever saw."
"But I feel disposed to say, steam through to Aden," said Sir John anxiously, "for if the wind is north-west, we shall have it like a furnace from the African desert."
"Yes, sir," said the captain, smiling, "but, according to my experience, it isn't much better from the Arabian side. There's no getting over it: the Red Sea might almost be called the Red-hot sea."
The business going on in the engine-room seemed to be a break in what so far had been rather a monotonous voyage, and, to the father's great satisfaction the following morning, he came suddenly upon Jack ascending to the deck, wiping his face, and followed by the mate, just as they were slowly steaming into the Canal.
Sir John said nothing, but noted that the lad went with the mate right aft, where they stood leaning over and gazing down at where the screw was churning up the water, the mate explaining its fish-tail-like action and enormous power in propelling the yacht.
"Have an eye upon him, Instow," said Sir John; "the heat is getting intense, and it can't be good for him to go down into that engine-room."
"Just as if I ever had my eyes off him," replied the doctor. "You let me be."
"But he seemed to be dripping with perspiration."
"Best thing for him. Open his pores, which have been shut up all his life. Grand thing for him. He couldn't be going on better. I was afraid that the heat would depress him, and lay him on his back: don't you see that so long as he keeps active he will not feel it so much?"
"I am not a doctor," said Sir John simply. "I suppose you are right."
"Well, give me a fair chance, old fellow. You've had your turn with the bow, and made an old man of him."
"Not I--his masters."
"Well, let me now try if I can't make a boy of the old man. Look at him. Can you believe it?"
Jack walked by them, in his white duck suit and pith hat, just then, with the mate.
"Find it too hot, father? Shall I fetch your white umbrella?"
"No, no, thank you, my boy; I'm going to sit under the awning and watch the shipping. But--er--don't expose yourself to the heat too much; the sun has great power."
"Yes, it is hot," said Jack quietly, "but I like it."
"Yes, Mr Jack, sir," said Edward, who had overheard his master's remarks, "and so do I like it; but it's a sort of country where you feel as if you would like to have a great deal of nothing to do, and lie about on the sand like the niggers. I've just been watching 'em, and it seems to me that they don't eat much, nor drink much. You see 'em nibbling a few dates, or swallowing lumps of great green pumpkins."
"Melons, Ned," said Jack, correcting him.
"Melons, sir? Yes, I know they call 'em melons, but they're not a bit better than an old pumpkin at home, or an old vegetable marrow gone to seed. I know what a melon is, same as Mackay grows at home, red-fleshed and green-fleshed, and netted. They're something like; but as for these--have you tried one, sir?"
"No."
"Then you take my advice, sir. Just you don't try 'em, for they're about the poorest, moshiest-poshiest things you ever tasted."
"But the people here seem to like them."
"Oh yes, they like 'em, sir. They seem as if they'd eat anything, and I suppose that's why their skins are so black. But, as I was saying, they don't seem to want beef, or mutton, or pickled pork, and yet they get fat. It's the sunshine, I believe. They go on swallowing that all day long. I mean to try how it acts as soon as I get a good chance."
"You're quite lazy enough without doing that," said Jack, laughing.
"Now I do call that 'ard, Mr Jack, sir--reg'lar out an' out hard. I'm sure I never neglects anything. You don't want, nor Sir John neither, anything like so much valeting as you do at home. There's no boots to brush, nor clothes neither. I'm sure, sir, I never neglected you, only just for that little bit when I seemed to be standing on my head because my legs wouldn't hold me up--now, have I, sir?"
"Oh no. You've always been very attentive, Ned."
"Then that's why I call it 'ard, sir. Ever since you've been growing sharp and quick, and wanting to do something else besides read, you've been getting 'arder to me, sir, and I don't like it."
"Oh, nonsense. I've only laughed at you sometimes."
"Well, sir, look at that. You never used to laugh at me at home, nor you usen't to order me about, nor you usen't to--well, you never used to do nothing, sir, but read."
Jack frowned, and reddened a little.
"I put out your clothes and boots for you, and you put 'em on--just what I liked to put for you. You used to get up when I called you, and you'd have eat anything that was put before you, and said nothing. While now you're getting particular about your food even, and you order me about-- and I won't say bully me, because it ain't quite true; but you've said lots o' sharp things to me, and I feel 'mazed like sometimes to hear you, for it don't sound like you at all. It's just as if you'd got yourself changed, sir."
"Perhaps I have, Ned, for I feel changed," said the boy.
"Yes, sir, you are changed a lot, and I hope it's right."
"I hope so, Ned," said Jack, and he walked away.
"Don't even use his legs like he did a month ago. I can't quite understand it, but it ain't my business. Couldn't have been right for him to be always sitting over a book, and when he got up, looking as if he was still all among the Romans and Greek 'uns. But it seems so sudden like, and as if he might go back again. But I s'pose we shall see."
Jack at Sea--by George Manville Fenn