CHAPTER SIX.
HOW JIMMY WAS FRIGHTENED BY THE BUNYIP.
"Oh, I don't know that I've got any more to say about it," said Jack Penny to me as we sat next day in the bows of the schooner, with our legs dangling over the side.

"I heard all about your going, and there was nothing to do at home now, so I said to myself that I'd go, and here I am." "Yes, here you are," I said; "but you don't mean to tell me that you intended to go up the country with us ?" "Yes, I do," he said.
"Nonsense, Jack! it is impossible!" I said warmly.
"I say!" "Well ?" "New Guinea don't belong to you, does it ?" "Why, of course not." "Oh, I thought p'r'aps you'd bought it." "Don't talk nonsense, Jack." "Don't you talk nonsense then, and don't you be so crusty.

If I like to land in New Guinea, and take a walk through the country, it's as free for me as it is for you, isn't it ?" "Of course it is." "Then just you hold your tongue, Mister Joe Carstairs; and if you don't like to walk along with me, why you can walk by yourself." "And what provisions have you made for the journey ?" I said.
"Oh, I'm all right, my lad!" he drawled.

"Father lent me his revolver, and I've got my double gun, and two pound o' powder and a lot o' shot." "Anything else ?" "Oh, I've got my knife, and a bit o' string, and two fishing-lines and a lot of hooks, and I brought my pipe and my Jew's-harp, and I think that's all." "I'm glad you brought your Jew's-harp," I said ironically.
"So am I," he said drily.

"Yah! I know: you're grinning at me, but a Jew's-harp ain't a bad thing when you're lonely like, all by yourself, keeping sheep and nobody to speak to for a week together but Gyp.