“Poor Jack!” said Peter. “Why they’ve knocked you a kind of silly. You’ll be better when you’ve had a sleep.”
They carried me to the boat. I remember the motion of it, and I remember the bright moonlight on the water, but nothing else for another day.
Chapter Eighteen.
The Story of our Rescue—A Dinner and a Ball—Peter and Dulzura.
On our arrival at Sandy Point (Puenta Arenas) we, that is Jill and I, had been billeted at a pretty little bungalow belonging to a Chilian, and next morning early Peter came to see us, and tell us the story of our rescue.
“First and foremost,” he began, “let me tell you that I’m precious glad to see you again, Jack, and you too, Greenie; though, bother me if I’m not beginning to think you’re not half so green as you look, for the way he was fighting, Jack, when I landed to help you, was a caution to codgers, I can tell you. Ha, ha! why, I laugh to think how he was making the spear heads fly whenever a few of those Foogies made a thrust at him. How many Greenie killed I couldn’t wager; but I’m pretty certain he has found the cannibals in food for a fortnight.
“And you too, Jack. I got a blink of you before you fell. You were back to back, you two; and what with you being so precious like Jill, and Jill being so precious like you, I’m sure the Foogies were frightened and took the two of you for one. And of course they’re not far wrong, though you’re not fastened together like the Siamese twins by a bit of skin.”
“How did you find us?”