"It's no more a wild-cat than I am!" cried Peterkin, taking it in his
arms; "it's quite tame.--Poor pussy, cheetie pussy!"
We now crowded around Peterkin, and were not a little surprised, and,
to say truth, a good deal affected, by the sight of the poor animal's
excessive joy. It rubbed its head against Peterkin's cheek, licked his
chin, and thrust its head almost violently into his neck, while it
purred more loudly than I ever heard a cat purr before, and appeared to
be so much overpowered by its feelings, that it occasionally mewed and
purred almost in the same breath. Such demonstrations of joy and
affection led us at once to conclude that this poor cat must have known
man before, and we conjectured that it had been left either
accidentally or by design on the island many years ago, and was now
evincing its extreme joy at meeting once more with human beings. While
we were fondling the cat and talking about it, Jack glanced round the
open space in the midst of which we stood.
"Hallo!" exclaimed he, "this looks something like a clearing. The axe
has been at work here. Just look at these tree-stumps."
We now turned to examine these, and without doubt we found trees that
had been cut down here and there, also stumps and broken branches; all
of which, however, were completely covered over with moss, and bore
evidence of having been in this condition for some years. No human
footprints were to be seen either on the track or among the bushes, but
those of the cat were found everywhere.
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