“Is it not the most glorious and altogether astonishing state of things you ever heard or dreamed of, father?” asked Benjy, breaking a prolonged silence.
“Out o’ sight, my boy, out o’ sight,” replied the Captain. “Never heard nor saw nor dreamed of anything like it before.”
“P’raps it is a dream!” said Benjy, with a slightly distressed look. “How are we ever to know that we’re not dreaming?”
The boy finished his question with a sharp cry and leaped up.
“Steady, boy, steady! Have a care, or you’ll upset the boat,” said the Captain.
“What did you do that for, father?”
“What, my boy?”
“Pinch me so hard! Surely you didn’t do it on purpose?”
“Indeed I did, Ben,” replied the Captain with a laugh. “You asked how you were to know you were not dreaming. If you had been dreaming that would have wakened you—wouldn’t it?”
“I dare say it would, father,” returned the boy, resuming his seat, “but I’m convinced now. Don’t do it again, please. I wish I knew what Chingatok thinks of it. Try to ask him, father. I’m sure you’ve had considerable experience in his lingo by this time.”