“Magic,” said Bevis. “Very likely the magician. Did you see him?”
“No; but I believe there’s something very curious about this island—”
“It’s enchanted, of course,” said Bevis. “There’s lots of things you know are there, and you can’t find,” said Mark; “there’s a tiger, I believe, in the bushes and reeds at the other end. If I had had my spear I should have gone and looked, and there’s boa-constrictors and a hippopotamus was here last night, and heaps of jolly things, and I’ve found a place to make a cave. Come and see,” (pulling Bevis).
“I’ll come,” said Bevis, “in a minute. But just look, I’ve found out what was wrong—”
“And how to tack?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do it, and tack and get shipwrecked, and live here. If we only had Jack’s rifle.”
“But we must sail properly first,” said Bevis. “I shan’t do anything till we can sail properly: now this is it. Look.”
He showed Mark the two sketches, and how their mainsail did not reach back far enough towards the stern.
“Frances must make it larger,” said Mark. “Of course that’s it—it’s as different as possible. And the mast ought to be higher—it would crack better, and go overboard—whop!”