Part 50 (2/2)
”Or the Land of Magic.”
”New Formosa or the Magic Land,” said Bevis. ”I'll write it down on the map we made when we get home.”
”Here's the place,” said Mark. ”This is where the cave ought to be,”
pointing at a spot where the sandy cliff rose nearly perpendicular; ”and then we ought to have a hut over it.”
”Poles stuck in and leaning down and thatched.”
”Yes, and a palisade of thick stakes stuck in, in front of the door.”
”So that no one could take us by surprise at night.”
”And far enough off for us to have our fire inside.”
”Twist bushes in between the stakes.”
”Quite impa.s.sable to naked savages.”
”How high?”
”Seven feet.”
”Or very nearly.”
”We could make a bed, and sleep all night.”
”Wouldn't it be splendid to stop here altogether?”
”First-rate; no stupid sillinesses.”
”No bother.”
”Have your dinner when you like.”
”n.o.body to bother where you've been to.”
”Let's live here.”
”All right. Only we must have a gun to shoot birds and things to eat,”
said Bevis. ”It's no use unless we have a gun; it's not proper, nor anything.”
”No more it is,” said Mark; ”we _must_ have a gun. Go and stare at Frances.”
”But it takes such a time, and then you know how slow Jack is. It would take him three months to make up his mind to lend us the rifle.”
”So it would,” said Mark; ”Jack's awful slow, like his old mill-wheel up there.”
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