“How are you going to sharpen it?” asked Grant curiously.
“On a big black rock Ah done discovah roun’ dat dere point.”
“The rock that looks like a shark,” exclaimed George. “That ought to be a good one, for it certainly seemed hard enough.”
“Dat rock look lak a shark, yo’ say?” remarked Sam suddenly.
“Yes,” said George. “Didn’t you think so?”
“Now dat Ah comes to think on it, it sho’ did,” said Sam. “Ah wondahs if dis yere can be de island.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Fred eagerly. “What island?”
“Well,” said Sam, “evah sence Ah done commence to foller de sea Ah has heard tales of some island where dey is treasah buried. Dat island was said to hab a big rock on it what done look lak a shark. Mebbe this am de one.”
“Where was this island?” asked George eagerly.
“No one ebber knew,” said Sam. “All Ah knows is dat on dis island dey said dere was all so’ts ob treasah. Yo’ could tell de pahtikelah island by its habbin’ a big rock on it what done look lak a shark. Dat’s all Ah knows.”