Nungapunga Book. 'How do they call moose in Canada, Nilgliai?'
The man laughed. Singing was his one polite accomplishment, as many Press-tents in far-off lands had known.
'What shall I sing?' said he, turning in the chair.
'"Moll Roe in the Morning," ' said Torpenhow at a venture.
'No,' said Dick sharply, and the Nilghai opened his eyes. The old chanty whereof he, among a very few, possessed all the words was not a pretty one, but Dick had heard it many times before without wincing. Without prelude he launched into that stately tune that calls together and troubles the hearts of the gipsies of the sea—
Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish ladies,
Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain.
Dick turned uneasily on the sofa, for he could hear the bows of the Barralong crashing into the green seas on her way to the Southern Cross. Then came the chorus—
We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,
We'll rant and we'll roar across the salt seas,
Until we take soundings in the Channel of Old England
From Ushant to Scilly 'tis forty-five leagues.
