“So there are!” cried Peterkin, who being of a very unobservant nature had been too much taken up with other things to notice anything so high above his head as the fruit of a palm tree. But, whatever faults my young comrade had, he could not be blamed for want of activity or animal spirits. Indeed, the nuts had scarcely been pointed out to him when he bounded up the tall stem of the tree like a squirrel, and, in a few minutes, returned with three nuts, each as large as a man’s fist.
“You had better keep them till we return,” said Jack. “Let us finish our work before eating.”
“So be it, captain, go ahead,” cried Peterkin, thrusting the nuts into his trousers pocket. “In fact I don’t want to eat just now, but I would give a good deal for a drink. Oh that I could find a spring! but I don’t see the smallest sign of one hereabouts. I say, Jack, how does it happen that you seem to be up to everything? You have told us the names of half-a-dozen trees already, and yet you say that you were never in the South Seas before.”
“I’m not up to everything, Peterkin, as you’ll find out ere long,” replied Jack, with a smile; “but I have been a great reader of books of travel and adventure all my life, and that has put me up to a good many things that you are, perhaps, not acquainted with.”
“Oh, Jack, that’s all humbug. If you begin to lay everything to the credit of books, I’ll quite lose my opinion of you,” cried Peterkin, with a look of contempt. “I’ve seen a lot o’ fellows that were always poring over books, and when they came to try to do anything, they were no better than baboons!”
“You are quite right,” retorted Jack; “and I have seen a lot of fellows who never looked into books at all, who knew nothing about anything except the things they had actually seen, and very little they knew even about these. Indeed, some were so ignorant that they did not know that coconuts grew on coconut trees!”
I could not refrain from laughing at this rebuke, for there was much truth in it, as to Peterkin’s ignorance.
“Humph! maybe you’re right,” answered Peterkin; “but I would not give tuppence for a man of books, if he had nothing else in him.”
“Neither would I,” said Jack; “but that’s no reason why you should run books down, or think less of me for having read them. Suppose, now, Peterkin, that you wanted to build a ship, and I were to give you a long and particular account of the way to do it, would not that be very useful?”
“No doubt of it,” said Peterkin, laughing.
“And suppose I were to write the account in a letter instead of telling you in words, would that be less useful?”
“Well—no, perhaps not.”
“Well, suppose I were to print it, and send it to you in the form of a book, would it not be as good and useful as ever?”
“Oh, bother! Jack, you’re a philosopher, and that’s worse than anything!” cried Peterkin, with a look of pretended horror.
“Very well, Peterkin, we shall see,” returned Jack, halting under the shade of a coconut tree. “You said you were thirsty just a minute ago; now, jump up that tree and bring down a nut—not a ripe one, bring a green, unripe one.”
Peterkin looked surprised, but, seeing that Jack was in earnest, he obeyed.
“Now, cut a hole in it with your penknife, and clap it to your mouth, old fellow,” said Jack.
Peterkin did as he was directed, and we both burst into uncontrollable laughter at the changes that instantly passed over his expressive countenance. No sooner had he put the nut to his mouth, and thrown back his head in order to catch what came out of it, than his eyes opened to twice their ordinary size with astonishment, while his throat moved vigorously in the act of swallowing. Then a smile and look of intense delight overspread his face, except, indeed, the mouth, which, being firmly fixed to the hole in the nut, could not take part in the expression; but he endeavoured to make up for this by winking at us excessively with his right eye. At length he stopped, and, drawing a long breath, exclaimed—
“Nectar! perfect nectar! I say, Jack, you’re a Briton—the best fellow I ever met in my life. Only taste that!” said he, turning to me and holding the nut to my mouth. I immediately drank, and certainly I was much surprised at the delightful liquid that flowed copiously down my throat. It was extremely cool, and had a sweet taste, mingled with acid; in fact, it was the likest thing to lemonade I ever tasted, and was most grateful and refreshing. I handed the nut to Jack, who, after tasting it, said, “Now, Peterkin, you unbeliever, I never saw or tasted a coconut in my life before, except those sold in shops at home; but I once read that the green nuts contain that stuff, and you see it is true!”
“And pray,” asked Peterkin, “what sort of ‘stuff’ does the ripe nut contain?”
“A hollow kernel,” answered Jack, “with a liquid like milk in it; but it does not satisfy thirst so well as hunger. It is very wholesome food I believe.”
“Meat and drink on the same tree!” cried Peterkin; “washing in the sea, lodging on the ground—and all for nothing! My dear boys, we’re set up for life; it must be the ancient Paradise—hurrah!” and Peterkin tossed his straw hat in the air, and ran along the beach hallooing like a madman with delight.
We afterwards found, however, that these lovely islands were very unlike Paradise in many things. But more of this in its proper place.
We had now come to the point of rocks on which the
