‘It does, indeed,’ burst forth my companion, overjoyed at my verification of his theory, ‘it does indeed; why, it is as plain as a pike-staff. Let us proceed at once; come, throw away all those stupid ideas about the Typees, and hurrah for the lovely valley of the Happars.’
‘You will have it to be Happar, I see, my dear fellow; pray Heaven you may not find yourself deceived,’ observed I, with a shake of my head.
‘Amen to all that, and much more,’ shouted Toby, rushing forward; ‘but Happar it is, for nothing else than Happar can it be. So glorious a valley—such forests of bread-fruit trees—such groves of cocoanut—such wilderness of guava-bushes! Ah! shipmate! don’t linger behind: in the name of all delightful fruits, I am dying to be at them. Come on, come on; shove ahead, there’s a lively lad; never mind the rocks; kick them out of the way, as I do; and tomorrow, old fellow, take my word for it, we shall be in clover. Come on;’ and so saying, he dashed along the ravine like a madman, forgetting my inability to keep up with him. In a few minutes, however, the exuberance of his spirits abated, and, pausing for a while, he permitted me to overtake him.