“You may think so, pilot,” replied he, “but when I tell you that I fully believe that these birds are as good as ourselves, you will not be surprised—­”

“How do you mean, as good as ourselves?”

“I believe that they were every one sailors like ourselves in former times.  They are now the sailors’ friends, come to warn us of the approaching storm, and I can tell you a circumstance which occurred in the West Indies, which fully proves to me that they are not wantonly killed without a judgment upon those who do so.  I never believed it myself till then; but old Mason, who is now on board, was one of the seamen of the vessel in which the circumstance happened.”

“Indeed!” replied I, “I should like to hear it.”

“I can’t tell you now,” said he; “I must go down and satisfy that puppy Creole, whose sugars are on board.  He will otherwise make such a row between me and the owners that I may lose the command of the vessel.  And yet, would you imagine it? although he will not credit what I tell him about Mother Carey’s chickens, the foolish young man firmly believes in the Obi.”

I did not think one superstition more ridiculous than the other, but still as I always found that it was useless to argue such points, I said nothing, and the captain went down into the cabin to pacify Mr. Higgins.

It was late in the first watch, and when the passengers had retired to bed, that the captain came on deck.  “Well,” said he, “I told Mr. Higgins my story, and as there was a bit of Obi nonsense in it, he believed it, and he has not only made friends, but thanked me for not having allowed him to shoot the birds; and now I’ll tell you the real story: 

“A schooner was coming down from the Virgin Isles with sugar and passengers to Antigua, where I was lying with my ship.  She had a fine young fellow of the name of Shedden on board; and, besides other passengers, there was an old black woman, who, where she resided, had always been considered as an Obi woman.  I saw her afterward; and you never beheld such a complication of wrinkles as she was, from her forehead to her feet, and her woolly head was as white as snow.  They were becalmed as soon as they were clear of the islands; and, as it happened, some Mother Carey’s chickens were flying about the stern.  Shedden must needs get at his gun to shoot them.  The old black woman sat near the taffrail; she saw him with his gun, but she said nothing.  At last he fired, and killed three of them.

“‘There are three down!’ cried out some of the other passengers.

“‘How many?’ said the old woman, raising her head; ’three! Then count the sharks which are coming up.’

“‘Count the sharks, mother! why count them?  There’s plenty of them,’ replied Shedden, laughing.

“‘I tell you that there will be but three sent,’ replied the old woman, who then sunk down her head and said no more.

“Well, the negroes who were passengers on board, most of them Mr. Shedden’s slaves, looked very blank, for they knew that old Etau never spoke without reason.  In about ten minutes afterward, three large sharks swam up to the vessel, with their fins above water.