“The original father of all frogs!” replied Peterkin, as he darted forward and killed the thing with a stick.
“I believe it is a frog,” said Jack.
We all burst into a fit of laughter, for undoubtedly it was a frog, but certainly the largest by far that any of us had ever seen. It was quite as large as a chicken!
“What a shame to have killed it!” said I. “Why did you do it?”
“Shame! It was no shame. In the first place, I killed it because I wish you to make scientific inspection of it; and in the second place, I wanted to eat it. Why should not we as well as Frenchmen eat frogs? By the way, that reminds me that we might introduce this giant species into France, and thereby make our fortunes.”
“You greedy fellow,” cried Jack, who was busying himself in lighting the fire, “your fortune is made already. How many would you have?”
“D’ye know, Jack, I have been in possession of my fortune, as you call it, so short a time that I cannot realise the fact that I have it.—Hollo! Mak, what’s wrong with you?”
Peterkin thus addressed our guide because he came into the camp at that moment with a very anxious expression of countenance.
“Dere hab bin fight go on here,” said he, showing several broken arrows, stained with blood, which he had picked up near our encampment.
“Ha! so there has, unless these have been shot at wild beasts,” said Jack, examining the weapons carefully.