"What are they going to do with them?" murmured one of the Englishmen,
at a loss.

"I reckon," said the cowboy, "that they look on this as the easiest way
to drown them all to onct."

Then from behind one of the other boats suddenly appeared a huge German
sailor with a hose. The devoted imbeciles in the shore boat were
drenched as by a cloud-burst. Back and forth and up and down the heavy
stream played, while every other human being about the ship shrieked
with joy. Did the victims rise up in a body and capture that hose nozzle
and turn the stream to sweep the decks? Did they duck for shelter? Did
they at least know enough to scatter and run? They did none of these
things; but sat there in meek little rows like mannikins until the boat
was half full of water and everything awash. Then, when the sailor shut
off the stream, they continued to sit there until the mate came to order
them out. Why? I cannot tell you. Perhaps that is the German idea of how
to take a joke. Perhaps they were afraid worse things might be
consequent on resistance. Perhaps they still hoped to go ashore. One of
the Englishmen asked just that question.

"What," he demanded disgustedly, "what is the matter with the beggars?"

Our cowboy may have had the correct solution. He stretched his long
legs and jumped down from the rail.

"Nothing stirring above the ears," said he.

It is customary in books of travel to describe this part of the journey
somewhat as follows: "Skirting the low and uninteresting shores of