“Well,” answered Jack, throwing down the axe with which he was just about to proceed towards the boat, “if that’s what you want, I would recommend you to make an excursion to the waterspouts. The last one we had to do with tossed you up a considerable height; perhaps the next will send you higher—who knows?—if you’re at all reasonable or moderate in your expectations!”
“Jack, my dear boy,” said Peterkin gravely, “you are really becoming too fond of jesting. It’s a thing I don’t at all approve of; and if you don’t give it up, I fear that, for our mutual good, we shall have to part.”
“Well, then, Peterkin,” replied Jack with a smile, “what would you have?”
“Have?” said Peterkin. “I would have nothing. I didn’t say I wanted to have; I said that I wanted to do.”
“By the bye,” said I, interrupting their conversation, “I am reminded by this that we have not yet discovered the nature of yon curious appearance that we saw near the waterspouts on our journey round the island. Perhaps it would be well to go for that purpose.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Peterkin, “I know the nature of it well enough.”
“What was it?” said I.
“It was of a mysterious nature, to be sure!” said he with a wave of his hand, while he rose from the log on which he had been sitting and buckled on his belt, into which he thrust his enormous club.
“Well, then, let us away to the waterspouts,” cried Jack, going up to the bower for his bow and arrows.—“And bring your spear, Peterkin; it may be useful.”
We now, having made up our minds to examine into this matter, sallied forth eagerly in the direction of the waterspout rocks, which, as I have before mentioned, were not far from our present place of abode. On arriving there we hastened down to the edge of the rocks and gazed over into the sea, where we observed the pale-green object still distinctly visible, moving its tail slowly to and fro in the water.