The perpetual bizarre beauty of the scene was tiring to the youth. For
some reason he thought again of the sea serpent. It occurred to Madden
that an enormous scaly thing, in vivid spangling colors, embossed with
sword-like spines, with a long convoluted tail, huge red-fanged mouth,
would be in keeping with the scene before him, would indeed produce a
gorgeously decorative effect, such as he had seen in Chinese pictures.
His thoughts took all sorts of queer turns. He wondered what he would do
if he should see such a creature? He walked over and stood by the rail,
staring intently into the colorful west, half expecting to see some wild
dragon of his imagination. If it should come, he wished for a camera--a
moving picture camera. A moving picture of a dragon attacking a ship!
Just then he caught a strange noise that seemed to emanate from the air
above his head. He stood quite still, hands on rail, listening. It was
repeated. It was a human noise. It seemed to come from the vacant
bronze-colored sky above his head. He wondered if he were going insane?
Just then he caught sight of Caradoc's torso thrust out from a barrel up
in the shrouding of the foremast. The crew of the _Vulcan_ had run
up the barrel like a whaler's lookout to post a watch. Into this barrel
Caradoc had climbed.
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