very
exactly—that it is somewhere ABOUT there. Ships have probably seen it
in that neighborhood, that is all, most likely. It is quite possible we
shall be the first white men to land there. But I daresay we shall have
some difficulty in finding it first."
How like a dream it all sounded! The two of us sitting there at the big
study-table; the candles lit; the smoke curling towards the dim ceiling
from the Doctor's pipe—the two of us sitting there, talking about
finding an island in the ocean and being the first white men to land
upon it!
"I'll bet it will be a great voyage," I said. "It looks a lovely island
on the map. Will there be black men there?"
"No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on it, Miranda tells me."
At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred and woke up. In our
excitement we had forgotten to speak low.
"We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda," said the Doctor. "You
know where it is, do you not?"
"I know where it was the last time I saw it," said the bird. "But
whether it will be there still, I can't say."
"What do you mean?" asked the Doctor. "It is always in the same place
surely?"
"Not by any means," said Miranda. "Why, didn't you know?—Spidermonkey
Island is a FLOATING island. It moves around all over the place—usually
somewhere near southern South America. But of course I could surely find
it for you if you want to go there."
At this fresh piece of news I could contain myself no longer. I was
bursting to tell some one. I ran dancing and singing from the room to
find Chee-Chee.
At the door I tripped over Dab-Dab, who was just coming in with her
wings full of plates, and fell headlong on my nose,
"Has the boy gone crazy?" cried the duck. "Where do you think you're
going, ninny?"
"To Spidermonkey Island!" I shouted, picking myself up and doing
cart-wheels down the hall—"Spidermonkey Island! Hooray!—And it's a
FLOATING island!"
"You're going to Bedlam, I should say," snorted the housekeeper. "Look
what you've done to my best china!"
But I was far too happy to listen to her scolding; and I ran on,
singing, into the kitchen to find Chee-Chee.
PART THREE
*
The First Chapter. The Third Man
*
THAT same week we began our preparations for the voyage.
Joe, the mussel-man, had the Curlew moved down the river and tied it
up along the river-wall, so it would be more handy for loading. And for
three whole days we carried provisions down to our beautiful new boat
and stowed them away.
I was surprised to find how roomy and big she was inside. There were
three little cabins, a saloon (or dining-room) and underneath all this,
a big place called the hold where the food and extra sails and other
things were kept.
I think Joe must have told everybody in the town about our coming
voyage, because there was always a regular crowd watching us when we
brought the things down to put aboard. And of course sooner or later old
Matthew Mugg was bound to turn up.
"My Goodness, Tommy," said he, as he watched me carrying on some sacks
of flour, "but that's a pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be going to
this voyage?"
"We're going to Spidermonkey Island," I said proudly.
"And be you the only one the Doctor's taking along?"
"Well, he has spoken of wanting to take another man," I said; "but so
far he hasn't made up his mind."
Matthew grunted; then squinted up at the graceful masts of the Curlew.
"You know, Tommy," said he, "if it wasn't for my rheumatism I've half
a mind to come with the Doctor myself. There's something about a boat
standing ready to sail that always did make me feel venturesome and
travelish-like. What's that stuff in the cans you're taking on?"
"This is treacle," I said—"twenty pounds of treacle."
"My Goodness," he sighed, turning away sadly. "That makes me feel more
like going with you than ever—But my rheumatism is that bad I can't
hardly—"
I didn't hear any more for Matthew had moved off, still mumbling, into
the crowd that stood about the wharf. The clock in
exactly—that it is somewhere ABOUT there. Ships have probably seen it
in that neighborhood, that is all, most likely. It is quite possible we
shall be the first white men to land there. But I daresay we shall have
some difficulty in finding it first."
How like a dream it all sounded! The two of us sitting there at the big
study-table; the candles lit; the smoke curling towards the dim ceiling
from the Doctor's pipe—the two of us sitting there, talking about
finding an island in the ocean and being the first white men to land
upon it!
"I'll bet it will be a great voyage," I said. "It looks a lovely island
on the map. Will there be black men there?"
"No. A peculiar tribe of Red Indians lives on it, Miranda tells me."
At this point the poor Bird-of-Paradise stirred and woke up. In our
excitement we had forgotten to speak low.
"We are going to Spidermonkey Island, Miranda," said the Doctor. "You
know where it is, do you not?"
"I know where it was the last time I saw it," said the bird. "But
whether it will be there still, I can't say."
"What do you mean?" asked the Doctor. "It is always in the same place
surely?"
"Not by any means," said Miranda. "Why, didn't you know?—Spidermonkey
Island is a FLOATING island. It moves around all over the place—usually
somewhere near southern South America. But of course I could surely find
it for you if you want to go there."
At this fresh piece of news I could contain myself no longer. I was
bursting to tell some one. I ran dancing and singing from the room to
find Chee-Chee.
At the door I tripped over Dab-Dab, who was just coming in with her
wings full of plates, and fell headlong on my nose,
"Has the boy gone crazy?" cried the duck. "Where do you think you're
going, ninny?"
"To Spidermonkey Island!" I shouted, picking myself up and doing
cart-wheels down the hall—"Spidermonkey Island! Hooray!—And it's a
FLOATING island!"
"You're going to Bedlam, I should say," snorted the housekeeper. "Look
what you've done to my best china!"
But I was far too happy to listen to her scolding; and I ran on,
singing, into the kitchen to find Chee-Chee.
PART THREE
*
The First Chapter. The Third Man
*
THAT same week we began our preparations for the voyage.
Joe, the mussel-man, had the Curlew moved down the river and tied it
up along the river-wall, so it would be more handy for loading. And for
three whole days we carried provisions down to our beautiful new boat
and stowed them away.
I was surprised to find how roomy and big she was inside. There were
three little cabins, a saloon (or dining-room) and underneath all this,
a big place called the hold where the food and extra sails and other
things were kept.
I think Joe must have told everybody in the town about our coming
voyage, because there was always a regular crowd watching us when we
brought the things down to put aboard. And of course sooner or later old
Matthew Mugg was bound to turn up.
"My Goodness, Tommy," said he, as he watched me carrying on some sacks
of flour, "but that's a pretty boat! Where might the Doctor be going to
this voyage?"
"We're going to Spidermonkey Island," I said proudly.
"And be you the only one the Doctor's taking along?"
"Well, he has spoken of wanting to take another man," I said; "but so
far he hasn't made up his mind."
Matthew grunted; then squinted up at the graceful masts of the Curlew.
"You know, Tommy," said he, "if it wasn't for my rheumatism I've half
a mind to come with the Doctor myself. There's something about a boat
standing ready to sail that always did make me feel venturesome and
travelish-like. What's that stuff in the cans you're taking on?"
"This is treacle," I said—"twenty pounds of treacle."
"My Goodness," he sighed, turning away sadly. "That makes me feel more
like going with you than ever—But my rheumatism is that bad I can't
hardly—"
I didn't hear any more for Matthew had moved off, still mumbling, into
the crowd that stood about the wharf. The clock in
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