Part 73 (1/2)
”Nor our jolly old mokes and governors.”
”Shot a kangaroo,” said Bevis, writing; ”shot a duck and a jack--No.
Are they jacks? That's such a common name?”
”No; not jacks: jack-sharks.”
”No; sun-fish: they're always in the sun.”
”Yes; sun-fish.”
”Shot a sun-fish: saw two squirrels, and a heron, and four parrots--”
”And a kingfisher--”
”Halcyon,” said Bevis, writing it down--”a beautiful halcyon; made a table and a sun-dial. I must go up presently and mark the meridian by the north star.”
”Saw one savage.”
”Who was that?”
”Why, Charlie.”
”O yes, one savage; believe there are five thousand in the jungle on the mainland.”
”Seven thousand miles from anywhere. Put it down,” said Mark.
”Twenty degrees north lat.i.tude; right. There, look; half a page already!”
”We ought to wash some sand to see if there's any gold,” said Mark--”in a cradle, you know.”
”So we did. We ought to have looked in the duck's gizzard; tiny nuggets get in gizzards sometimes.”
”Everything goes to the river beyond the weeds,” said Mark; ”that ought to be written.”
”Does everything go to the river?”
”Everything. While I was fis.h.i.+ng I saw them all come back to Serendib from it.”
”We must make haste with the raft.”
”Like lightning,” said Mark.
”Let me see,” said Bevis, leaning his arm on the table and stroking his hair with the end of the penholder. ”There are blue gum trees, and palms, and banyans.”
”Reeds--they're canes.”
”Sedges are papyrus.”
”The big bulrushes are bamboos.” He meant the reed-mace.