FIRST PART
CHAPTER 21: Some Days Ashore
(continued)
By six o'clock in the evening, we were back on the beach.
The skiff was aground in its usual place. The Nautilus, looking like
a long reef, emerged from the waves two miles offshore.
Without further ado, Ned Land got down to the important business
of dinner. He came wonderfully to terms with its entire cooking.
Grilling over the coals, those cutlets from the "bari-outang" soon
gave off a succulent aroma that perfumed the air.
But I catch myself following in the Canadian's footsteps.
Look at me--in ecstasy over freshly grilled pork!
Please grant me a pardon as I've already granted one to Mr. Land,
and on the same grounds!
In short, dinner was excellent. Two ringdoves rounded out this
extraordinary menu. Sago pasta, bread from the artocarpus, mangoes,
half a dozen pineapples, and the fermented liquor from certain
coconuts heightened our glee. I suspect that my two fine companions
weren't quite as clearheaded as one could wish.
"What if we don't return to the Nautilus this evening?" Conseil said.
"What if we never return to it?" Ned Land added.
Just then a stone whizzed toward us, landed at our feet, and cut
short the harpooner's proposition.
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