We all turned our eyes towards the cluster of islands, where, on
the largest, we observed curious objects moving on the shore.

"Soldiers they are, - that's flat!" cried Peterkin, gazing at them
in the utmost amazement.

And, in truth, Peterkin's remark seemed to me to be correct; for,
at the distance from which we saw them, they appeared to be an army
of soldiers. There they stood, rank and file, in lines and in
squares, marching and countermarching, with blue coats and white
trousers. While we were looking at them, the dreadful cry came
again over the water, and Peterkin suggested that it must be a
regiment sent out to massacre the natives in cold blood. At this
remark Jack laughed and said, -

"Why, Peterkin, they are penguins!"

"Penguins?" repeated Peterkin.

"Ay, penguins, Peterkin, penguins, - nothing more or less than big
sea-birds, as you shall see one of these days, when we pay them a
visit in our boat, which I mean to set about building the moment we
return to our bower."

"So, then, our dreadful yelling ghosts and our murdering army of
soldiers," remarked Peterkin, "have dwindled down to penguins, -
big sea-birds! Very good. Then I propose that we continue our
journey as fast as possible, lest our island should be converted
into a dream before we get completely round it."