“Eh? What? Steam?”
Css, came loudly from a crevice in the rocks so suddenly and sharply, that the sailor sprang up in alarm.
“Oh,” he grumbled, directly after, “it’s them hot water works. I thought it was a snake.”
“Who said snakes?” cried Drew, waking up.
“I did, sir, but it ain’t. It’s to-morrer morning, and we’re getting up.”
“I have raked the fire together, sir, and put the billy on to byle,” said Smith,—“not meaning you, messmate.”
“Time to get up?” cried Oliver, and he sprang to his feet. “Come on, Panton, who’s for a bath?”
They all were, and coming back refreshed partook of a hearty meal which exhausted their supplies, all but the condiments they had provided, and necessitated an immediate return to the brig.
“Only it seems a pity,” said Oliver, as the cries of birds could be heard in different directions, while butterflies of bright colours darted here and there, and the trees were hung with creepers whose racemes and clusters of blossoms gladdened Drew’s eyes.
“Yes, it seems a pity,” said Panton, taking out his little hammer and beginning to chip at a piece of rock.