The next morning, all were engaged in archery: I completed the bow for Francis, and at his particular request made him a quiver too.

The delicate bark of a tree, united by glue, obtained from our portable soup, formed an admirable quiver; this I suspended by a string round the neck of my boy, furnished with arrows; then taking his bow in his hand, he was as proud as a knight armed at all points.
After dinner, I proposed that we should give names to all the parts of our island known to us, in order that, by a pleasing delusion, we might fancy ourselves in an inhabited country.

My proposal was well received, and then began the discussion of names.

Jack wished for something high-sounding and difficult, such as _Monomotapa_ or _Zanguebar_; very difficult words, to puzzle any one that visited our island.

But I objected to this, as _we_ were the most likely to have to use the names ourselves, and we should suffer from it.