Part 9 (1/2)

”Hurray!” cried Tommy. ”What is it, Bess?”

”It's just this. We must act as if we were going to stay on this island for ever.”

Tommy gasped, and a look of dismay came into her eyes.

”Don't you think we'll be rescued, then?” she asked.

”Oh, I don't give up hope. We may be seen from a s.h.i.+p any day, or Uncle may come for us; but we can't depend on it. Plenty of men and boys have been s.h.i.+pwrecked like us on a lonely island, and have managed to s.h.i.+ft for themselves. Why shouldn't we? We're used to outdoor work: at least, _I_ am, and it would be an odd thing if we couldn't manage to make ourselves comfortable on an island like this, with half our work already done for us.”

”What do you mean?” asked Mary.

”Why, if you're right about there being plenty of fruit--and I don't see why you shouldn't be--we shan't have to grow our food, and that's the chief thing. So we shall have more time for other things. The first thing is to see just what we've got. Here's mine.”

She turned out her pocket, and displayed two handkerchiefs, a thimble, a small whistle and her jack-knife.

”That's not a great deal,” she said, smiling. ”Now, Mary.”

”There's my knife, and a hanky, and my little pen-knife, and hurray! my housewife.”

And as she suddenly remembered that on the night before the storm she had been mending her uncle's clothes, the recollection almost moved her to tears.

”I've got the most,” said Tommy, with a laugh. ”Look here--scissors, hanky, some bits of string, my match-box, jack-knife, picture postcard of an aeroplane--wish we had an aeroplane!--and----”

She had unfolded a much-worn sc.r.a.p of paper; now she folded it again and replaced it in her pocket.

”What is it?” asked Elizabeth.

”It's only that stupid old receipt for b.u.t.terscotch: no good to us here.”

They all smiled.

”Well, we can't boast of much in the way of personal possessions,” said Elizabeth; ”but we have the boat, two oars, a boat-hook, the painter, a few cups and things, my string bag, that's a lucky find--and our macintoshes. More than Crusoe had.”

”Not so much, Bess,” said Mary. ”You don't remember. I always think Crusoe was jolly lucky.”

”I dare say you are right. Well, we've taken stock. That's one good thing done. Now what do you say to building a hut?”

”What! With scissors and knives?” asked Mary.

”You'll see. We ought to try, I think. The weather is lovely now, but I shouldn't care about sleeping in the boat in a rainstorm, even under a macintosh. And you know how it rains in these tropical parts.”

”It'll be great fun,” said Tommy, ”but I don't see how it's to be done.”

”We'll have to cut down some saplings with our jack-knives. I don't quite see myself what we shall do next, but that will be a start, anyway, and I dare say ideas will come as we go along.”

”That doesn't sound much like an architect,” said Tommy, ”but let's try. It will give us something to do and keep us from getting catty.”

Elizabeth smiled as she saw her intentions thus realized.

”We must choose our site,” she said. ”Surveying, don't they call it?”

”All settlements are made near running water,” said Mary, ”so it ought to be near the stream.”