"As for myself," said the Pilot, "I do not wish to live anywhere. Since I am in your house, Mr. Becker, and cannot get away honestly for a quarter of an hour, I must of course remain; but as for becoming a mere dependant on your bounty, that I will not suffer."
"What you say there is not very complimentary to me," said Mr. Wolston.
"Your position, Mr. Wolston, is a very different thing: besides, you are an invalid and require attention, whilst I am strong and healthy, for which I ought to be thankful."
"You are not in my house," replied Becker "any more than I am in yours; the place we are in is a shelter provided by Providence for us all, and I venture to suppose that such a host is rich enough to supply all our wants. I am only the humble instrument distributing the gifts that have been so lavishly bestowed on this island."
"What you say is very kind and very generous," added Willis, "but I mean to provide for myself—that is my idea."
"And not a bad one either," continued Becker; "but how? You are welcome here to do the work for four—if you like; and then, supposing you eat for two, I will be your debtor, not you mine."
"Work! and at what? walking about with a rifle on my shoulder; airing myself, as I am doing now under your gallery, in the midst of flowers, on the banks of a river: or opening my mouth for quails to jump down my throat ready roasted—would you call that work?"
"Look there, Willis—what do you see?"
"A bear-skin."
"Well, suppose, by way of a beginning, I were to introduce you to a fine live bear, with claws and tusks to match, ready to spring on you, having as much right to your skin as you have to his—now, were I to say to you, I want that animal's skin, to make a soft couch similar to the one you see yonder, would you call that work?"