the club rather an unwieldy instrument for my delicately
formed muscles, and I flatter myself I shall do more execution with a
spear."

"Well, if length constitutes power," said Jack, "you'll certainly be
invincible."

The pole which Peterkin had cut was full twelve feet long, being a very
strong but light and tough young tree, which merely required thinning at
the butt to be a serviceable weapon.

"That's a very good idea," said I.

"Which--this?" inquired Peterkin, pointing to the spear.

"Yes," I replied.

"Humph!" said he; "you'd find it a pretty tough and matter-of-fact idea
if you had it stuck through your gizzard, old boy!"

"I mean the idea of making it is a good one," said I, laughing. "And,
now I think of it, I'll change my plan too. I don't think much of a
club, so I'll make me a sling out of this piece of cloth. I used to be
very fond of slinging, ever since I read of David slaying Goliath the
Philistine, and I was once thought to be expert at it."

So I set to work to manufacture a sling. For a long time we all worked
very busily without speaking. At length Peterkin looked up. "I say,
Jack, I'm sorry to say I must apply to you for another strip of your
handkerchief to tie on this rascally head with. It's pretty well torn
at any rate, so you won't miss it."

Jack proceeded to comply with this request, when Peterkin suddenly laid
his hand on his arm and arrested him.

"Hist, man!" said he; "be tender! You should never be needlessly cruel
if you can help it. Do try to shave past Lord Nelson's mouth without
tearing it, if possible! Thanks. There are plenty more handkerchiefs
on the cocoa-nut trees."

Poor Peterkin! with what pleasant feelings I recall and record his jests
and humorous sayings now!

While we were thus engaged we were startled by a distant, but most
strange and horrible, cry. It seemed to come from the sea, but was so
far away that we could not clearly distinguish its precise direction.
Rushing out of our bower, we hastened down to the beach and stayed to
listen. Again it came, quite loud and distinct on the night air--a
prolonged, hideous cry, something like the braying of an ass. The moon
had risen, and we could see the islands in and beyond the lagoon quite
plainly; but there was no object visible to account for such a cry. A
strong gust of wind was blowing from the point whence the sound came,
but this died away while we were gazing out to sea.

"What can it b