"No. I looked up the book. Length twice the breadth and the elephant
exactly in the middle. I thought the people ashore would know how to
make the local flag. Stands to reason. You were wrong, Jukes. . . ."

"Well, sir," began Jukes, getting up excitedly, "all I can say--" He
fumbled for the end of the coil of line with trembling hands.

"That's all right." Captain MacWhirr soothed him, sitting heavily on a
little canvas folding-stool he greatly affected. "All you have to do is
to take care they don't hoist the elephant upside-down before they get
quite used to it."

Jukes flung the new lead-line over on the fore-deck with a loud "Here
you are, bo'ss'en--don't forget to wet it thoroughly," and turned with
immense resolution towards his commander; but Captain MacWhirr spread
his elbows on the bridge-rail comfortably.

"Because it would be, I suppose, understood as a signal of distress," he
went on. "What do you think? That elephant there, I take it, stands for
something in the nature of the Union Jack in the flag. . . ."

"Does it!" yelled Jukes, so that every head on the Nan-Shan's decks
looked towards the bridge. Then he sighed, and with sudden resignation:
"It would certainly be a dam' distressful sight," he said, meekly.

Later in the day he accosted the chief engineer with a confidential,
"Here, let me tell you the old man's latest."

Mr. Solomon Rout (frequently alluded to as Long Sol, Old Sol, or Father
Rout), from finding himself almost invariably the tallest man on board