They're afraid they're goin'
to drop off on the other side uv the world an' they go to Chris an' say:
'Thar ain't no sech continent ez Ameriky an' we ain't goin' to discover
it. We're goin' to turn right 'round an' go straight back to Spain.'
"Chris says in the knowin'est manner like a father talkin' to his child.
'Thar is sech a continent ez Ameriky, an' it's a big one, too. It's layin'
over thar straight to the west, an' it's full uv big lakes an' big rivers
an' big mountains an' red Injuns that fight with bows an' arrers, and
b'ars an' buffalers an' deer an' panthers an' all things fine, jest
waitin' fur us. Thar's whar we're goin'.' And the sailors say more uppish
than ever: No, we ain't, we ain't goin' to discover Ameriky, thar ain't no
sech place, we're goin' right back to Spain.' Then a kinder funny look
comes into Chris's eye. He reaches fur his long rifle, an' he draws a bead
on the foremost uv them sailors, the feller that speaks fur 'em all, an'
he says, droppin' that fatherly manner an' speakin' up sharp an' snappy:
'I reckin we're either goin' to discover Ameriky, or go right back to
Spain, which is it?'
"An' that foremost sailor, the one that speaks fur 'em all, sees the funny
look in Chris's eye, an' he thinks, too, he kin see clean down the barrel
uv that long rifle to whar the bullet is layin', an' he answers right off:
'We're goin' to discover Ameriky'; an' shore enough they did, this fine,
big continent, full uv big lakes an' big rivers an' big mountains an' red
Injuns that fight with bows an' arrers an' b'ars and buffalers an' deer
an' panthers an' all things fine.
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