The natives saw him go, and springing to their feet began uttering
excited shouts and throwing their spears at him. But he was already
so high and so far away that they failed to reach him, and the boy
continued his journey unharmed.
Once the branches of a tall tree caught him and nearly tipped him
over; but he managed to escape others by drawing up his feet. At
last he was free of the island and traveling over the ocean again. He
was not at all sorry to bid good-by to the cannibal island, but he was
worried about the machine, which clearly was not in good working
order. The vast ocean was beneath him, and he moved no faster than an
ordinary walk.
"At this rate I'll get home some time next year," he grumbled.
"However, I suppose I ought to be glad the machine works at all." And
he really was glad.
All the afternoon and all the long summer night he moved slowly over
the water. It was annoying to go at "a reg'lar jog-trot," as Rob
called it, after his former swift flight; but there was no help for it.
Just as dawn was breaking he saw in the distance a small vessel,
sailing in the direction he was following, yet scarcely moving for
lack of wind.
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