Explore "The Riddle of the Sands" by Erskine Childers on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the late afternoon of the second day our flotilla reached the Elbe at Brunsbüttel and ranged up in the inner basin, while a big liner, whimpering like a fretful baby, was tenderly nursed into the lock. During the delay Davies left me in charge, and bolted off with an oilcan and a milk-jug. An official in uniform was passing along the quay from vessel to vessel countersigning papers. I went up to meet him with our receipt for dues, which he signed carelessly. Then he paused and muttered "Dooltzhibella," scratching his head, "that was the name. English? " he asked.
"Yes."