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Updated: June 2, 2025
In accordance with this suggestion, each of the boys arms himself with an oar, leaving Seagriff the boat-hook. They enter among the tussac, and after tramping through it a hundred yards or so, they come upon a "penguinnery," sure enough. It is a grand one, extending over acres, with hundreds of nests if a slight depression in the naked surface of the ground deserves to be so called.
Without comprehending a word that is said, Seagriff knows too well what they are talking about; their gestures are too intelligible with the lurid glare in their ghoul-like eyes. All that he sees portends a danger that he shrinks from declaring to his companions. They will doubtless learn it soon enough.
Seagriff, in turn taking the glass, further makes out that the men have fish-spears in their hands, and an implement he recognises as a fizgig, while the heads of dogs appear over the gunwales of the canoes, nearly a dozen in each. "It's a fishin' party," he pronounces. "For all thet, we'd best make a hide of it; thar's no trustin' 'em, anyway, so long as they think they hev the upper hand.
So with a confident air he attacks the tree which Seagriff points out to be felled first, saying, "Dis nigger fetch it down quick as de shake ob a nanny-goat's tail, see if him don't." And he proceeds to confirm his boast by a vigorous assault upon the tree, a beech, one of those that have been barked.
By this, the Fuegians have approached near enough for hailing, which, however, they have been doing all along, shouting in high-pitched voices, and frantically gesticulating. They cry, "Ho-say! ho-say!" in quick repetition, two of them standing up and waving skins of some sort above their heads. "Thet means to hold palaver, an' hev a dicker wi' 'em," says Seagriff.
They do not linger over the repast, as the skipper and Seagriff are impatient to ascend to the summit of the isle, the latter in hopes of making out some remembered landmark. The place where they have put in is on its west side, and the high ground interposed hinders their view to the eastward, while all seen north and south is unknown to the old carpenter.
Just as Seagriff finishes his interesting dissertation, his listeners have their attention called to a spectacle quite new to them, and somewhat comical. Near the spot where they have landed, a naked sand-bar projects into the water, and along this a number of odd-looking creatures are seen standing side by side.
Landing, they are surprised to see a square-built hut of large size, quite different from anything of Fuegian construction, and evidently the work of white men. "I reck'n the crew o' some sealin' vessel hez put it up," surmises Seagriff; in doubt adding, "Yit I can't understan' why they should a-squatted hyar, still less built a shanty, seein' it ain't much of a lay fer seal.
Even Seagriff still appears apprehensive, else why should he be looking so anxiously out over the water? Seated on the trunk of a fallen tree, pipe in mouth, he sends up wreathing curls of smoke among the branches of the Winter's-bark overhead.
The wigwam tells of their still being in the territory of the hostile tribe from which they so miraculously escaped. "Ailikoleep!" is the exclamation of Seagriff, as soon as he sets eyes on it; "we're in the country o' the rascally savagers yit!" "How do you know that?" inquires the skipper. "By the build o' thet wigwam, an' the bulk of it.
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