“But what if I refuse to talk?” said Pauline, with a laugh.
“Then will you be all the more able to listen, sister mine, which is the most common-sense thing that you can do, except when brother Dom speaks,” said the incorrigible boy.
They had seated themselves on a bank while thus conversing, and from their position could see over a considerable portion of the lagoon. Suddenly Dominick pointed to an object a long way off, which was half concealed by the shadow of an island.
“Does it not look like a canoe?” he asked eagerly.
“Can’t make it out at all,” said Otto, shading his eyes with his hand.
“The sun on the water dazzles one so,” observed Pauline, “that it is difficult to look steadily.”
In a few moments the object which had drawn their attention sailed out from under the shade of the island, and, breaking up into fragments, rose into the air, proving itself to be a flock of large aquatic birds which had been swimming in a line.
“Things are not what they seem,” observed Pauline, rising and following her brothers through a little thicket.
“What a pity!” exclaimed Otto; “I was in hopes it was a canoeful of savages. It would be such fun to have a real Friday to be our servant.”
“More likely that our Friday would kill, cook, and eat us if he could,” said Dominick, to the surprise of Otto, who gave it as his opinion that savages never ate men, and asked if his brother really believed that they did.