Part 17 (1/2)
”My dears, we haven't a hut,” said Tommy. ”We be three poor mariners--vagabonds, homeless, ragged and tanned. Who was that old king who sat himself down in a lonely mood to think, and watched a spider spin its web over and over again, and thought he couldn't let a spider beat him and at last beat all his enemies? Oh, dear, that's made me out of breath. Robert Bruce, wasn't it, Mary?”
”Yes; Mrs. Hemans wrote the poem. 'Bruce and the Spider,' it's called.”
”I don't care who wrote it, only we've got to spin our web again. Oh, 'Will you walk into my parlour?' said the spider to the fly. 'Please 'm, where's the parlour?' says the fly. There, I'm a lunatic, but I feel so jolly at having caught those runaway oars. I say, are you dry?
I am. That's one advantage of living in a tropical climate; if you get soaked you don't have to s.h.i.+ver while your things are dried at the fire. 'Homeless, ragged and tanned, who so contented as I?'” she sang, and Elizabeth, noticing the high spirits of her wild young sister, hoped that there wouldn't be a reaction, and that Tommy was not going to be ill.
CHAPTER XII
ALARMS AND DISCOVERIES
Contemplating the ruins of the hut they had built up with so much care, the girls felt a very natural chagrin. You have seen a child who has erected a fine house of bricks fly into a rage when the structure topples by its own weight, or at least look utterly woebegone, and leave the scattered bricks lying where they fell. Elizabeth Westmacott and her sisters felt very much the same disinclination to begin again.
The site was a picture of disorder. Portions of the matting had been blown right away; other portions in shreds and tatters had found resting-places among the foliage of the surrounding trees and shrubs.
Some of the canes of the roof dangled from the boughs, others littered the ground amid a tangle of creepers and leaf.a.ge. No one could have supposed that only a few hours before the same place had been a model of neatness.
”It will take an age to tidy up,” grumbled Tommy. ”Is it worth while to bother about a hut again?”
”I don't like being without a roof over our heads,” replied Elizabeth; ”but we won't start yet if you don't feel inclined. Let us go and take a look round.”
”We shall want some breadfruit for dinner,” said Mary, ”so we had better go that way. I dare say we shall find all we need on the ground.”
They set off towards the breadfruit-trees. Everywhere there were signs of the violence of the storm, but they were surprised and interested to notice that the worst havoc had been wrought in almost a straight line across the island from south-west to north-east.
It was as though some huge giant had gone steadily forward wielding a monstrous scythe. The tornado had cut a clean path through the forest, leaving scarcely a tree standing over a wide s.p.a.ce. Where there had been close, unbroken woodland was now a bare avenue, interrupted by the trunks of trees that had been thrown this way and that. Impressed as the girls had been with the fury of the tornado during the time of their exposure to it, its devastating power was brought home to them now much more strongly. They looked with awe upon its ravages.
”How thankful we ought to be that we were not in its direct path!” said Elizabeth. ”A little more to right or left and we should have had trees cras.h.i.+ng down upon us; we might have all been killed.”
”It is a dreadful place,” said Tommy, subdued and thoughtful. ”Oh, Bess, shall we never be found and taken away?”
”We must hope on, dear. It will never do to get downhearted. While we are all well and strong we need not mind so very much, and a s.h.i.+p is sure to come this way some time or other.”
”But it might pa.s.s us,” said Mary. ”I am sure our flag is blown away.
Shall we go and see?”
”Hadn't we better fetch our breadfruit first, now we are in this direction?”
”Of course. We shall have to light another fire, too; ours is sure to be out.”
They went on, and on arriving at the breadfruit plantation found, as they had expected, that the ground was littered with fruit, which was already being devoured by land-crabs, insects and birds. They picked up several that were in good condition, and retraced their steps towards the sh.o.r.e.
As they were pa.s.sing through the fringe of woodland, Tommy stopped suddenly, and went down on her knees.
”Oh, do look!” she cried. ”Here's a nest on the ground, and the dearest little white parrot you ever saw. Poor little thing! I think it has lost its mother.”
The girls stooped to look at it, and Tommy put her hand into the nest.
The tiny bird rustled in alarm, opening its beak to let out a plaintive cry; but it was too young to use its wings, and Tommy took it up and held it gently.
”Its little heart is beating frantically,” she said. ”Let us take it back with us and try to rear it. You know I wanted one.”