The Little Savage by Frederick Marryat — Read

I have before said that, tired of repeating the words of the songs which Jackson had taught me, I had taken those of Psalms in metre, at the end of the Prayer-book, by way of variety; and, as far as metre went, they answered very well, although people would have been surprised to have heard Psalms sung to such quick and varied measure. The Psalm I chose this time was the first -- "How blest is he who ne'er consents; " and I began accordingly; but when I came to the end of the line, to my astonishment I heard a plaintive voice, at a distance, repeat after me "con-sents. " I looked round. I thought I must have been deceived, so I continued -- "By ill advice to walk. " This time I could not be mistaken -- "to walk" was repeated by the same voice as plainly as possible. I stopped singing, lost in wonder.

There must be somebody on the island as well as myself, thought I; for I never had heard an echo before, except when it thundered, and such echoes I had put down as a portion of the thunder. "Who's there? " cried I. "Who's there? " replied the voice. "It's me! " "It's me! " was the answer. I did not know what to make of it. I cried out again and again, and again and again I heard what I said repeated, but no answer to my questions. I thought I was insulted by somebody, and yet, when I listened, the voice that spoke came from the face of the rock on the other side of the chasm, and no one could be there without my seeing them. This made me think that I was mistaken, and that there could not be anybody, but still I could not solve the mystery. At last I became frightened, and as the sun was now setting, I determined to get back to the cabin. I did so, and went down much faster than I had gone up, for as it grew dark I became the more alarmed.