“Nevertheless,” remarked Jack, “if that same stone had hit any of us, it would have rendered the charge you speak of quite unnecessary, Peterkin.”
This was true, and I felt very thankful for our escape. On examining the spot more narrowly, we found that it lay close to the foot of a very rugged precipice, from which stones of various sizes were always tumbling at intervals. Indeed, the numerous fragments lying scattered all around might have suggested the cause of the sound, had we not been too suddenly alarmed to think of anything.
We now resumed our journey, resolving that, in our future excursions into the interior, we would be careful to avoid this dangerous precipice.
Soon afterwards we arrived at the foot of the hill and prepared to ascend it. Here Jack made a discovery which caused us all very great joy. This was a tree of a remarkably beautiful appearance, which Jack confidently declared to be the celebrated bread-fruit tree.
“Is it celebrated?” inquired Peterkin, with a look of great simplicity.
“It is,” replied Jack
“That’s odd, now,” rejoined Peterkin; “never heard of it before.”
“Then it’s not so celebrated as I thought it was,” returned Jack, quietly squeezing Peterkin’s hat over his eyes; “but listen, you ignorant boobie! and hear of it now.”
Peterkin re-adjusted his hat, and was soon listening with as much interest as myself, while Jack told us that this tree is one of the most valuable in the islands of the south; that it bears two, sometimes three, crops of fruit in the year; that the fruit is very like wheaten bread in appearance, and that it constitutes the principal food of many of the islanders.
“So,” said Peterkin, “we seem to have everything ready prepared to our hands in this wonderful island,—lemonade ready bottled in nuts, and loaf-bread growing on the trees!”