Joe burst into a roar of laughter, and Rob coloured, for there was a feeling of annoyance rising within him at being the butt of the others’ mirth.
“Have I said something very stupid?” he asked.
“Why, couldn’t you see?” cried Joe eagerly. “It was a monkey.”
“I did not see any monkey,” said Rob coldly. “I was talking about that great brown husky-looking fruit, like a cocoa-nut hanging by a long stalk in that tree. Look! there are two more lower down!” he cried eagerly, as the boat glided round a bend into a long reach, two of the men being at the oars backing water a little from time to time with a gentle dip, so as to keep the boat’s head straight and check her to enable Brazier to scan the banks through the little binocular glass he carried, and be rowed close in when he wished to obtain specimens.
“Yes: there’s two more lower down,” said Shaddy, with his face puckered up like the shell of a walnut, and then Rob’s mouth expanded into a grin as wide as that of Joe’s, and he laughed heartily.
“Well,” he cried, “that is comic, and no mistake. I really thought it was some kind of fruit. It was a monkey.”
“You ain’t the first as made that mistake, Mr Rob, sir,” said Shaddy. “You see, they just take a turn with their tails round a branch, draws their legs up close, and cuddles them with their long arms round ’em, and then they looks just like the hucks of a cocoa-nut.”
“Like the what?” cried Rob.
“Hucks of a cocoa-nut.”
“Oh—husk.”