Ned Land couldn't conceal his glee.
He was a prisoner escaping from prison and never dreaming he would need to reenter it.
"Meat!" he kept repeating.
"Now we'll eat red meat!
Actual game!
A real mess call, by thunder!
I'm not saying fish aren't good for you, but we mustn't overdo 'em, and a slice of fresh venison grilled over live coals will be a nice change from our standard fare."
"You glutton," Conseil replied, "you're making my mouth water!"
"It remains to be seen," I said, "whether these forests do contain game, and if the types of game aren't of such size that they can hunt the hunter."
"Fine, Professor Aronnax!" replied the Canadian, whose teeth seemed to be as honed as the edge of an ax.
"But if there's no other quadruped on this island, I'll eat tiger—tiger sirloin."
"Our friend Ned grows disturbing," Conseil replied.
"Whatever it is," Ned Land went on, "any animal having four feet without feathers, or two feet with feathers, will be greeted by my very own one–gun salute."
"Oh good!"
I replied.
"The reckless Mr. Land is at it again!"
"Don't worry, Professor Aronnax, just keep rowing!" the Canadian replied.
"I only need twenty–five minutes to serve you one of my own special creations."
By 8:30 the Nautilus's skiff had just run gently aground on a sandy strand, after successfully clearing the ring of coral that surrounds Gueboroa Island.
Chapter 21 Some Days Ashore
STEPPING ASHORE had an exhilarating effect on me.
Ned Land tested the soil with his foot, as if he were laying claim to it.
Yet it had been only two months since we had become, as Captain Nemo expressed it, "passengers on the Nautilus," in other words, the literal prisoners of its commander.
In a few minutes we were a gunshot away from the coast.
The soil was almost entirely madreporic, but certain dry stream beds were strewn with granite rubble, proving that this island was of primordial origin.
The entire horizon was hidden behind a curtain of wonderful forests.
Enormous trees, sometimes as high as 200 feet, were linked to each other by garlands of tropical creepers, genuine natural hammocks that swayed in a mild breeze.
There were mimosas, banyan trees, beefwood, teakwood, hibiscus, screw pines, palm trees, all mingling in wild profusion; and beneath the shade of their green canopies, at the feet of their gigantic trunks, there grew orchids, leguminous plants, and ferns.
Meanwhile, ignoring all these fine specimens of Papuan flora, the Canadian passed up the decorative in favor of the functional.
He spotted a coconut palm, beat down some of its fruit, broke them open, and we drank their milk and ate their meat with a pleasure that was a protest against our standard fare on the Nautilus.
"Excellent!"
Ned Land said.
"Exquisite!"
Conseil replied.
"And I don't think," the Canadian said, "that your Nemo would object to us stashing a cargo of coconuts aboard his vessel?"
"I imagine not," I replied, "but he won't want to sample them."
"Too bad for him!"
Conseil said.
"And plenty good for us!"
Ned Land shot back.
"There'll be more left over!"
"A word of caution, Mr. Land," I told the harpooner, who was about to ravage another coconut palm.
"Coconuts are admirable things, but before we stuff the skiff with them, it would be wise to find out whether this island offers other substances just as useful.
Some fresh vegetables would be well received in the Nautilus's pantry."
"Master is right," Conseil replied, "and I propose that we set aside three places in our longboat: one for fruit, another for vegetables, and a third for venison, of which I still haven't glimpsed the tiniest specimen."
"Don't give up so easily, Conseil," the Canadian replied.
"So let's continue our excursion," I went on, "but keep a sharp lookout.
This island seems uninhabited, but it still might harbor certain individuals who aren't so finicky about the sort of game they eat!"
"Hee hee!"
Ned put in, with a meaningful movement of his jaws.