The conventional hair was put across the field of the
telescope for the unsophisticated 'really to see the line,' and many
firmly believed they did see it, and discussed its appearance at some
length. Jim Allen, one of our tallest sailors, and coxswain of the
gig, dressed in blue, with long oakum wig and beard, gilt paper crown,
and trident and fish impaled in one hand, was seated on a
gun-carriage, and made a capital Father Neptune. Our somewhat portly
engineer, Mr. Rowbotham, with fur-trimmed dressing gown and cap, and
bent form, leaning on a stick, his face partially concealed by a long
grey beard, and a large band-box of pills on one arm, made an equally
good doctor to his Marine Majesty, while the part of Mrs. Trident was
ably filled by one of the youngest sailors, dressed in some of the
maids' clothes; but the accompanying pictures will give a better idea
than any description of mine.
[Illustration: His Doctor (Crossing the Line)]
Soon afterwards we saw an enormous shoal of grampuses, large black
fish, about 25 feet in length, something between a dolphin and a
whale, with the very ugliest jaws, or rather snouts, imaginable. They
are of a predatory and ferocious disposition, attacking not only
sharks, dolphins, and porpoises, but even whales, more than twice
their own size.
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