`But the sucking-pig,' said Jack, `where did you get it?'
`It was one of several,' said Fritz, `which I found on the shore; along with some very curious little animals that hopped rather than walked, and every now and then would squat down on their hind legs and rub their snouts with their forepaws. Had not I been afraid of losing all, I would have tried to catch one alive, they seemed so tame. But this was more easily taken.'
Meanwhile, Ernest had been carefully examining the animal in question.
`This is no pig,' he said, `and except for its bristly skin, does not look like one. See, its teeth are not like those of a pig, but rather those of a squirrel. In fact,' he continued, looking at Fritz, `your sucking-pig is an agouti.'
`Dear me,' said Fritz, `listen to the great professor lecturing!
He is going to prove that a pig is not a pig!'
`You need not be so quick to laugh at your brother,' said I, in my turn, `he is quite right. I, too, know the agouti by descriptions and pictures, and there is little doubt that this is a specimen. The little animal makes its nest under the roots of trees, and lives upon fruit. Its meat is white but dry, having no fat, and never entirely loses a certain wild flavour, which is disagreeable to Europeans. It is held in great esteem by the natives where it lives, especially when the animal has been feeding near the sea on plants impregnated with salt. But, Ernest, the agouti not only looks something like a pig, but most decidedly grunts like a porker.'
While we were thus talking, Jack had been vainly endeavouring to open an oyster with his large knife. `Here is a simpler way,' said I, placing an oyster on the fire; it immediately opened.
`Now,' I continued, `who will try this delicacy?' All at first hesitated to partake of them, so unattractive did they appear. Jack, however, tightly closing his eyes and making a face as though about to take medicine, gulped one down. We followed his example, one after the other, each doing so rather to provide himself with a spoon than with any hope of cultivating a taste for oysters.
Our spoons were now ready, and gathering round the pot we dipped them in, not, however, without sundry scalded fingers. Ernest then drew from his pocket the large shell he had procured for his own use, and scooping up a good quantity of soup he put it down to cool, smiling at his own foresight.
`Prudence should be exercised for others, not just for oneself,' I remarked. `Are you so much better than your brothers? Your cool soup will do capitally for the dogs, my boy; take it to them, and then come and eat like the rest of us.'