A Voyage round the World: A book for boysKingston, William Henry Giles
General
A Voyage round the World: A book for boys
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Voyages around the world -- Juvenile fiction
"I know what they are saying," whispered Jerry. "Well, these are two
strange beings! How could they have come here? They are not seals,
that's certain, for they have legs; but they don't look as if they could
swim with those long, thin projections instead of flappers; and
assuredly they can't fly, for they have no wings. How can they feed
themselves, for they have no bills? and see what great ugly round things
they've got for heads. Evidently they cannot dive or live under water.
They are not fish, then, nor birds; for if those are feathers growing on
their backs, they are very rugged and dirty. Well, we pity them; for
they are strange beasts, that's a fact." This quaint notion of Jerry's
tickled my fancy so much that I burst into a loud fit of laughter, which
somewhat startled our flock of visitors; while Jerry, sitting up, hove a
stick he had carried all day made fast to his side in among them. The
missile did not, however, make them turn tail; but, instead, they
clustered thickly round it, and, as if it had been some impertinent
intruder, began pecking at it furiously. As we could not carry the
birds away, with a praiseworthy self-denial we abstained from firing.
When, however, we jumped suddenly up and clapped our hands, away they
scuttled at a great rate, chattering and quacking louder than ever. We
hoped, however, to reward ourselves for our present self-denial, by
returning with all the party to have a shot at them in the evening.
After this we walked on for a mile, and had begun to wonder what had
become of our companions, and to be a little anxious at having missed
them, when we were startled at hearing a loud roar not three hundred
yards from us. It was very different from that of the sea-lion, and we
too soon recognised it as the voice of an angry bull. Again the bull
bellowed, and this time several other bulls lent their voices to the
terror-inspiring chorus. We ran to the top of the highest mound near
us, and thence we made out five or six bulls, with their tails up in the
air, rushing towards us, following one whose voice we first heard. The
spot on which we stood afforded us no protection, for the beasts would
have rushed up it in a moment, but a couple of hundred yards on was a
rock with steep sides, just rising above the grass; and our only chance
of safety was to climb it before the horns of the first bull had reached
our backs. Had he come directly on, as fast as his legs could carry
him, this we should have had no chance of doing; but instead of that, he
every now and then stuck his sharp ugly-looking horns into the grass,
and tossed it above his head, as if to show how he intended to treat us
when he caught us. We rushed on with our eyes fixed on the rock, not
venturing to look behind, and expecting every moment to feel his horns
at our backs. We kept a tight hold of our guns, but unfortunately
dropped our wallets and the game we had shot. On we ran and on came the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account