"Hallo!" I shouted, almost mad with joy, "what ho! Peterkin! Jack I
hallo! it's _me_!"
My shout was just in time to arrest them. They halted and turned round,
and the instant I repeated the cry I saw that they recognised my voice,
by both of them running at full speed towards the beach. I could no
longer contain myself. Throwing off my jacket, I jumped overboard at
the same moment that Jack bounded into the sea. In another moment we
met in deep water, clasped each other round the neck, and sank, as a
matter of course, to the bottom! We were well-nigh choked, and
instantly struggled to the surface, where Peterkin was sputtering about
like a wounded duck, laughing and crying by turns, and choking himself
with salt water!
It would be impossible to convey to my reader, by description, an
adequate conception of the scene that followed my landing on the beach,
as we stood embracing each other indiscriminately in our dripping
garments, and giving utterance to incoherent rhapsodies, mingled with
wild shouts. It can be more easily imagined than described, so I will
draw a curtain over this part of my history, and carry the reader
forward over an interval of three days.
During the greater part of that period Peterkin did nothing but roast
pigs, taro, and bread-fruit, and ply me with plantains, plums,
potatoes, and cocoa-nuts, while I related to him and Jack the terrible
and wonderful adventures I had gone through since we last met.
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