Part 13 (1/2)

”Anyway, we won't ask you to do the repairs, Tommy, if you don't like it.”

”Oh, I didn't mean that,” said Tommy at once; ”I'll do my fair share, but I know I shall get a bit ratty if a silly old storm knocks our nice hut to pieces.”

The thatching occupied two more days, and then the girls looked with a great deal of pleasure on their neat little hut.

”But we haven't done yet,” said Elizabeth. ”The thatch will protect us from any ordinary rain, but we're still liable to be swamped by water running down the hill behind. We had better sc.r.a.pe out a trench all round, to carry the water down to the sh.o.r.e.”

This proved the hardest part of the work. They had no tools except their knives and the boat-hook, and with these to cut a trench deep enough to be effective was very trying to their patience. Such continuous plodding work did not suit Tommy's restless, active temperament at all, and she would constantly jump up and run off to the beach, or to the edge of the wood. At such times Mary was inclined to be impatient and reproachful, but Elizabeth said that they mustn't expect too much from Tommy.

”She's very young, you know, and it's really wonderful how her spirits have kept up so well. She's more nervy than we are, Mary, and I am always afraid she will break down.”

So neither she nor Mary said anything to Tommy about her fitfulness, and Tommy herself always came back repentant after these little absences, and worked away hard until the next fit of restlessness overtook her.

To give her a change from sc.r.a.ping away at the trench, Elizabeth suggested that she should make a mat curtain for the open side of the hut.

”We don't want a door,” she said, ”but a curtain will be useful at night. Leave a little s.p.a.ce between it and the roof for ventilation.

We can fasten the two lower corners to the canes.”

Tommy set about this task willingly, and had the curtain fixed by the time the trench was finished. The hut was now complete so far as its exterior was concerned; it had taken more than a fortnight altogether.

What they had now to consider was the internal fittings. Tommy laughed when this was mentioned.

”We can't get a bedroom suite, even on the hire system,” she said. ”I suppose you'd call it a bed-sitting-room, wouldn't you?”

”Let's call it 'Our Flat,'” suggested Mary.

”The best flat that ever was,” said Tommy. ”No botherations from unpleasant neighbours--at least, I hope not.”

”We certainly shan't have a tiresome piano going next door,” said Elizabeth. ”I think 'Our Flat' is a very good name. What a pity we haven't a table and pen, ink and paper!--then Mary could write a diary of our doings.”

”With moral reflections,” added Tommy. ”'To-day our youngest sister refused to wash up; how sad to see such a selfish spirit in one so young!' That's the sort of thing, isn't it, Mary?”

”I shouldn't write anything of the sort,” said Mary indignantly. ”You haven't refused to wash up, and if you did, do you think I should tell it?”

”My dear, you are perfectly killing,” said Tommy. ”Do you think you'd get your old diary published? No one would read it if you did.”

”We're talking nonsense, aren't we?” said Elizabeth. ”There's no chance of any of us writing a diary. Let's be practical. The only furniture we can supply ourselves with is--beds.”

”More weaving?” cried Tommy. ”Oh, I am so sick of it, Bess. Can't we sleep on the ground?”

”I don't think we'd better; we might get rheumatism, though to be sure the ground seems dry enough at present. But I own that weaving mats day after day is rather tiring, so shall we leave it for the present, and still sleep in the boat? What do you say to doing a little more exploration?”

”Yes, why not?” said Tommy eagerly. ”We haven't seen a soul--since I saw that figure move along the top of the ridge, at any rate; and I dare say that was an animal of some kind. I don't think there are any people here at all.”

”There may be some on the other side of the ridge,” said Mary.

”Well, if there are, they must be a very unenterprising lot,” said Tommy. ”Let's follow up the stream to its source. I've never seen the source of a river, and that'll be geography, won't it? Besides, our bananas will soon be all gone, and we ought to look for some more; we can't live on nothing but fish.”

”Very well; we will do as you say,” said Elizabeth. ”It's very hot to-day, so we'll cover our heads with leaves; it's just as well to take precautions.”

Shortly afterwards they set out, carrying the oars and the boat-hook as weapons of defence. Although they had gained confidence from never having seen any human being, as soon as they had walked beyond the limit of their previous excursions they felt something of the old timidity, and spoke only in whispers.