move over the stream, where she will have good pasturage, and we shall be in the shade instead of on this desert, and, father, I do wish——”
“Stop, stop, my boy!” cried I. “All will be done in good time. To-morrow and the day after will bring work of their own. And tell me, did you see no traces of our shipmates?”
“Not a sign of them, either on land or sea, living or dead,” he replied.
“But the sucking-pig,” said Jack, “where did you get it?”
“It was one of several,” said Fritz, “which I found on the shore; most curious animals they are, they hopped rather than walked, and every now and then would squat down on their hind legs and rub their snouts with their fore-paws. Had not I been afraid of losing them all, I would have tried to catch one alive, they seemed so tame.”
Meanwhile, Ernest had been carefully examining the animal in question.
“This is no pig,” he said, “and except for its bristly skin, does not look like one. See its teeth are not like those of a pig, but rather those of a squirrel. In fact,” he continued, looking at Fritz, “your sucking-pig is an Agouti.”
“Dear me,” said Fritz, “listen to the great professor lecturing! He is going to prove that a pig is not a pig!”
“You need not be so quick to laugh at your brother,” said I, in my turn; “he is quite right. I, too, know the Agouti by descriptions and pictures, and there is little doubt that this is a specimen. The little animal is a native of North America, where it makes its nest under the roots of trees, and lives upon fruit. But, Ernest, the Agouti not only looks something like a pig, but most decidedly grunts like a porker.”
While we were thus talking, Jack had been vainly endeavouring to open an oyster with his large knife. “Here is a simpler way,” said I, placing an oyster on the fire; it immediately opened.
