“Yes,” said Johnny, “I suppose so; there are enough of them too.”
“And some very disloyal, rebellious, and stiff-necked ones among them,” added Max, “who ought to be dealt with as traitors forthwith—that sturdy feathered rebel for instance, who not regarding the inviolability of the royal person, no longer ago than this morning laid one of our royal majesties sprawling upon his royal back.”
“And that other scaly traitor,” added Browne, “who perversely refused to come out of the water to be cooked, in accordance with the royal will, and who nearly bit off the sacred thumb of one of our majesties, in resisting the royal authority.”
“Well, Johnny,” said Max, “if we are not actually kings, we at any rate have some royal blood upon the island. Not to speak of myself, who am descended direct from ‘Kaiser Maximilien,’ here is Eiulo, who is a real prince, his father being King of the Cannibal Islands, or some other islands in these seas.”
“I wish you wouldn’t speak so of Eiulo’s father,” said Johnny, warmly, “he is not a cannibal, and I believe he is a very good man; I think his islands are near here, and if we should one day get there, he would treat us kindly, and let us go home whenever we should have an opportunity.”
“Hilloa!” cried Max, “what has put all that into your head? What do you know about Eiulo’s father, or his islands, or where they are?”
This sudden outburst of Johnny’s surprised us all, with perhaps the exception of Arthur, and we listened with some interest, as he replied to Max’s volley of questions.
“Oh, I have talked with Eiulo about it,” he answered, “mostly by signs; and he has made me understand that he believes his home is not far distant—off in that direction, (pointing north), and that ships sometimes stop there; and so I have been thinking that if we could only find the way there, we should have some prospect of getting home at last.”
Upon this we became silent and thoughtful; nothing further was said, until Johnny recurred to the question which he had started a few moments before, and again asked where we proposed to pass the night.
“Not in those gloomy woods, I hope,” said he, “where it is so lonely, and the wind and the trees make such strange noises. I would rather sleep down here upon the shore; this nice dry, white sand, up where the water never comes, will make a very good bed.”