I thought "deadly eddy" sounded like Illiteration, or something you
shouldn't do, in the Rhetoric Books, but Jerry was much excited over
his description. He sat on top of a rock, pointing out at the Sea
Monster like a prophet. He has quite black hair which blows around
wildly, and he looked very strange sitting up there raving about the
cavern. The letter was very long by the time we'd put in everything,
and we hoped the Bottle Man would like it. Just before we signed it,
I said:

"Do you think we'd better tell him I'm really Christine and not
Christopher?"

"_No_," Jerry said; "put Chris, the way you did before. He's writing
now as man to man. He might be disgusted if he knew it was just a
mere female."

"Oh, _thank_ you," I said; but I did put "Chris," on account of our
all being fellow castaways.

When we'd finished the letter we walked a long way down the other
shore toward the Fort. The wind was blowing right, and we could hear
bits of what the band was playing and now and then peppery sounds
from the rifle practice. It's not a very big fort, but it squats on
the other side of Wecanicut, watching the bay, and real cannon stick
out at loopholes in the wall. The ferry really only goes to
Wecanicut on account of the Fort, because there's nothing else there
but a few farm houses and some ugly summer cottages near the
ferry-slip. The point from which you see the Monster is not near the
Fort or the houses at all, and is much the wildest part of