Part 46 (2/2)
”In these unknown seas,” said Mark, ”you can't tell what proas are waiting behind the islands, nor how many Malays with creeses.”
”They're crooked the wrong way,” said Bevis. ”The most curious knives I ever saw.”
”Or junks,” went on Mark. ”Are these the Chinese Seas?”
”Jingalls,” said Bevis, ”they shoot big bullets, almost cannon-b.a.l.l.s, as big as walnuts. I wish we had one in the forecastle.”
”We ought to have a cannon.”
”Of course we did.”
”As if we couldn't manage a cannon!”
”As if!”
”Or a double-barrel gun.”
”Or anything.”
”Anything.”
”People _are_ stupid.”
”Idiotic.”
”We must have a gun.”
”We must.”
They listened again to the gurgling and ”guggling,” the bubbles, and kiss, kiss of the wavelets.
”We're a long way now,” said Mark presently. ”Can we see land?”
”See land! We lost sight of land months ago. I should think not. Look up there.”
Bevis was watching the top of the mast, tracing its line along the sky, where white filmy clouds were floating slowly. Mark opened his drowsy eyes and looked up too.
”No land in sight,” said he. ”Nothing but sky and clouds,” said Bevis.
”How far are we from sh.o.r.e?”
”Six thousand miles.”
”It's the first time anybody has ever sailed out of sight of land in our time,” said Mark. ”It's very wonderful, and we shall be made a great deal of when we get home.”
”Yes, and put in prison afterwards. That's the proper way.”
”We shall bring home sandal-wood, and diamonds as big as--as apples--”
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