“Not much like our violet reception in the Antarctics, eh, Nick?” said Gale.
“Oh, but it’s land! land!” breathed Edith “Warm, solid land! Aren’t we glad to see it, Zar?” and it seemed to me that she grew well as I watched her.
“Yes, ma’am! We is dat! Hit’s a mighty po’ country, I spec’, but hit seem to me right now as fine an’ proliferous as ole Vaginny!”
Even Mr. Larkins seemed to joy in the land feeling, and said that it reminded him of places in Newfoundland, where as a boy he had found the bake-apple. He believed we could find it here, if we looked about a little.
We pushed our way inland, and farther down the coast. There was a sparse moss vegetation here and there, and on one sunny bank we found a considerable bed of this growth. Edith Gale dropped down upon it luxuriously, and the rest of us followed her example.
“Oh, how beautiful!” she cried, “and how I loathe the ship! It seems to me that I could stay here forever!”
Zar grunted approvingly, but Gale said:
“I’d be glad enough to hurry back to the old Billowcrest if she was only afloat. We’ll get tired enough of this, I’m thinking, before that happens.”
I made no comment on this, but called attention to a ledge of rocks just beyond.
“Looks as if somebody had been hammering on it,” I said. “I suppose nobody lives on these islands.”