“I could—one of the small ones,” said Mark.
“But the small ones don’t seem to bear nuts,” said the captain quietly.
“I dunno,” said Billy, after a spell of thinking. “I’m a bit skeert about it.”
“What, afraid?” growled Small.
“No, no, not afraid,” said Billy; “skeert as I couldn’t get up. You see there’s no branches, not a sign o’ one till you gets to the place where the nuts grows, and then the branches is all leaves.”
“No,” said the major, looking at Billy with his head on one side, “he is not a countryman of mine. That was an English bull, Mark.”
“Why, o’ course!” cried Billy, slapping his leg. “I’ve got it.”
“Got what, m’lad?” said Small.
“The coky-nuts,” said Billy, smiling. “’Tis his natur’ to.”
“Don’t talk conundydrums, m’lad,” said the boatswain. “If so be as you’ve got the coky-nuts, let’s have ’em, for I’d like a go at one ’mazingly.”