So Harvey rang the bell.
"Yes, they slow daown one turn o' their blame propeller," said Dan, applying himself to Manuel's conch, "fer to keep inside the law, an' that's consolin' when we're all at the bottom.

Hark to her! She's a humper!" "Aooo-whoo-whupp!" went the siren.

"Wingle-tingle-tink," went the bell.
"Graaa-ouch!" went the conch, while sea and sky were all mired up in milky fog.

Then Harvey felt that he was near a moving body, and found himself looking up and up at the wet edge of a cliff-like bow, leaping, it seemed, directly over the schooner.

A jaunty little feather of water curled in front of it, and as it lifted it showed a long ladder of Roman numerals-XV., XVI., XVII., XVIII., and so forth--on a salmon-coloured gleaming side.