"Afterwards," continued Jack, "we will make a sail out of the
cocoa-nut cloth, and rig up a mast, and then we shall be able to
sail to some of the other islands, and visit our old friends the
penguins."

The prospect of being so soon in a position to extend our
observations to the other islands, and enjoy a sail over the
beautiful sea, afforded us much delight, and, after dinner, we set
about making the oars in good earnest. Jack went into the woods
and blocked them roughly out with the axe, and I smoothed them down
with the knife, while Peterkin remained in the bower, spinning, or,
rather, twisting some strong thick cordage with which to fasten
them to the boat.

We worked hard and rapidly, so that, when the sun went down, Jack
and I returned to the bower with four stout oars, which required
little to be done to them save a slight degree of polishing with
the knife. As we drew near we were suddenly arrested by the sound
of a voice! We were not a little surprised at this - indeed I may
almost say alarmed - for, although Peterkin was undoubtedly fond of
talking, we had never, up to this time, found him talking to
himself. We listened intently, and still heard the sound of a
voice as if in conversation. Jack motioned me to be silent, and,
advancing to the bower on tip-toe, we peeped in.

The sight that met our gaze was certainly not a little amusing. On
the top of a log which we sometimes used as a table, sat the black
cat, with a very demure expression on its countenance; and in front
of it, sitting on the ground, with his legs extended on either side