revive. The open sea, without any horizon, the sails spreading calmly
above him, the invigorating salt breeze, the little sailors clambering
up the shrouds and on the yards, all served to divert his mind from
his great grief. The sailors came to around him and told him stories,
and described the country to which they were bound; and sometimes Mr.
Nabbum brought out his elephants, which Huggermugger patted and
fondled like dogs. But poor Huggermugger was often sea-sick, and could
not sit up. The sailors made him as comfortable as they could. By
night they covered him up and kept him warm, and by day they stretched
an awning above him to protect him from the sun. He was so accustomed
to the open air, that he was never too cold nor too warm. But poor
Huggermugger, after a few weeks more, began to show the symptoms of a
more serious illness then sea-sickness. A nameless melancholy took
possession of him. He refused to eat--he spoke little, and only lay
and gazed up at the white sails and the blue sky. By degrees, he began
to waste away, very much as his wife did. Little Jacket felt a real
sorrow and sympathy, and so did they all. Zebedee Nabbum, however, it
must be confessed "though he felt a kind o' sorry for the poor
critter," thought more of the loss it would be to him, as a money
speculation, to have him die before they reached America. "It would be
too bad," he said, "after all the trouble and expense I've had, and
when the critter was so willin', too, to come aboard, to go and have
him die. We must feed him well, and try hard to save him; for we can't
afford to lose him. Why, he'd be worth at least 50,000 dollars--yes,
100,000 dollars, in the United States." So Zebedee would bring him
dishes of his favorite clams, nicely cooked and seasoned, but the
giant only sighed and shook his head. "No," he said, "my little
friends, I feel that I shall never see your country. Your coming to my
island has been in some way fatal for me. My secret must have been
told. The prophecy, ages ago, has come true!"