Indeed, it was so faint that I thought I must have merely fancied it, so, as I did not wish to alarm you, I said nothing about it."
We listened for a long time for the sound again, but as it did not come, we returned to the bower and resumed our work.
"Very strange," said Peterkin, quite gravely. "Do you believe in ghosts, Ralph?"
"No," I answered, "I do not. Nevertheless I must confess that strange, unaccountable sounds, such as we have just heard, make me feel a little uneasy."
"What say you to it, Jack?"
"I neither believe in ghosts nor feel uneasy," he replied. "I never saw a ghost myself, and I never met with any one who had; and I have generally found that strange and unaccountable things have almost always been accounted for, and found to be quite simple, on close examination. I certainly can't imagine what that sound is; but I'm quite sure I shall find out before long,—and if it's a ghost I'll—I'll—"
"Eat it," cried Peterkin.
"Yes, I'll eat it! Now, then, my bow and two arrows are finished; so if you're ready we had better turn in."
By this time Peterkin had thinned down his spear and tied an iron point very cleverly to the end of it; I had formed a sling, the lines of which were composed of thin strips of the cocoa-nut cloth, plaited; and Jack had made a stout bow, nearly five feet long, with two arrows, feathered with two or three large plumes which some bird had dropt. They had no barbs, but Jack said that if arrows were well feathered, they did not require iron points, but would fly quite well if merely sharpened at the point; which I did not know before.
