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Man Sat.u.r.day came running across to his little master. It was plain to be seen that he was so pleased about something that he did not know what to do. He caught hold of Barty's hand and chatterdy-chattered at him and tried to pull him towards the corner.
"He wants me to do something," said Barty. "He brought the leaves for something. He wants me to find out what they are for."
Man Sat.u.r.day danced before him to the corner where the bundle of leaves lay. He began to pull at the twigs which tied them together, and Barty knelt down and helped him.
"I'm sure they are for something important," he said. "I am going to think very hard."
He stood up and put his hands in his pockets and he stood astride because boys can often think harder when they stand that way. Man Sat.u.r.day tried to imitate him, but as he hadn't any pockets he put his hands on his hips and held his head on one side while he watched Barty with his sharp little eyes, all eagerness to see if he would find out what he meant. He looked so funny.
"You couldn't _eat_ them however loose your belt was," Barty said, looking at the leaves. "And you couldn't _drink_ them even if you were dreadfully thirsty--and you couldn't _wear_ them even if your clothes were worn out as Robinson Crusoe's were. Even if you had a needle and thread to st.i.tch them together they would break to pieces because they are so dry and brittle."
"Yes, they are very dry," remarked the Good Wolf, quietly.
And then all in a minute Barty felt sure he knew.
"If there were enough of them you could lie down on them," he said in great excitement. "_That's_ what they are for! Sat.u.r.day knows where there are more of them and they are for a bed." When he said that, Man Sat.u.r.day gave a squeak of delight and he immediately caught at Barty's hand and began to pull him towards the pa.s.sage which was the way out of the cave.
"He has got a store of them somewhere," said the Good Wolf, "and it is a place where the rain could not reach it. Let us trot along and see."
Barty and Man Sat.u.r.day were trotting along already, at least Man Sat.u.r.day was trotting and Barty was creeping through the pa.s.sage, and in two minutes he was out on the side of the cliff again and standing upon the ledge outside the cave. It was a very convenient ledge, and you could walk nearly all round the cliff on it. It was the kind of ledge you would only find on a desert island like Barty's--a really nice desert island.
Man Sat.u.r.day led the way, and after a few yards they came to a place where some trees and bushes hung over the edge, and beneath them was a hole in the rock, rather like a very little cave, and there were a great many leaves near the entrance to it. Anyone could see how they had got there. They were blown from the trees and bushes, and when Barty bent down and peeped into the hole he saw that it was full of leaves which had been blowing in there for years until the tiny cave seemed almost stuffed with them. No rain could reach them and so they were quite nice and dry.
The hole was too small for Barty to crawl into, but it was more than large enough for Man Sat.u.r.day, and chattering to Barty as fast as he could he crawled in and began to put together another bundle. He got the twigs from a bush close by and he pushed leaves out to Barty, so that he might help him.
It was great fun for Barty. He knew he could carry quite a bundle, and so he made a big one and when it was done he carried it back to his cave and pushed it before him when he crawled through the pa.s.sage. Man Sat.u.r.day brought one suited to his own size, because he was determined to work, too. Then they went back and made more bundles and the Good Wolf carried a big one on his back. In about half an hour the corner of the cave had a beautiful soft, heaped up, dry leaf bed in it, and Barty was rolling over and jumping and turning somersaults on it, and Man Sat.u.r.day was jumping about with him. The leaves were piled so high and were so springy to jump on that it was like dancing in a hay stack, but rather nicer.
"Now," said Barty, stopping a minute to take breath after turning six somersaults on end, "we have a beautiful bath and we have a house and we have a bed and we have a Man Sat.u.r.day--and we found something to eat when we looked, and I believe we shall find something more when we look again. I think just now I will lie down and have a sleep.
Running very hard in storms does make you sleepy."
"That's a good idea, too," answered the Good Wolf. "I believe I should like to curl up and get a few thousand winks myself. Forty wouldn't be enough."
And he did curl up at the bottom of Barty's big bed of leaves, and almost before he had time to do it Barty had curled up, too, like a squirrel in a nest, and he was fast asleep--and so was little Man Sat.u.r.day, who curled up close beside him.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
Barty's bed of leaves was so comfortable that he slept all night like a dormouse and never rolled over once. There is no knowing when he would have opened his eyes if he had been left to himself, but when the sun had risen and begun to make the blue sea look as if it were sparkling with diamonds, he suddenly awakened and sat up to listen to something he had heard in his sleep.
What he had heard was Blue Crest. There she sat on the edge of the cave window, whistling the calling song she had learned from him the day before.
"h.e.l.lo," said Barty, "I'm glad you've come back. I wondered where you were in the tropical storm." Blue Crest spread her wings and flew into the cave to perch on his wrist. She sang a little song of her own. She was saying "good morning" and letting him know she was glad he had come to the Desert Island. Barty whistled back to her and stroked her feathers with his fingers and lifted her up to put his cheek against her soft wing. Anyone would like to be wakened by a bird who was tame enough to sit on one's wrist and sing.
"But where is the Good Wolf? And I don't see Man Sat.u.r.day," he said suddenly, looking round the cave.
Blue Crest spread her wings and flew to the cave window again. Barty scrambled down from his leaf bed and followed her. It was a very nice window to look through. You could see so much sea and sky, and the white beach seemed so far below; and when he looked down Barty saw where the Good Wolf and Man Sat.u.r.day had gone. They were standing in the sands together and looked as if they were very much interested in something lying near them. Barty was just wondering what they were doing when he was so startled by something that he jumped. There was a sudden sound of the flapping of wings and a large white bird rushed past him quite close to his face. It flew out of a round hole in the front of the cliff, and the sight of it made Barty think of something.
"If she were a hen I should know there were eggs there," he said, "and that would be convenient."
The truth was that getting up had made him think of breakfast, and breakfast made him think of eggs. Blue Crest put her head on one side and gave three cheerful chirps. Then she flew to the round hole and disappeared inside. In about a minute she appeared again standing at the entrance, and she whistled Barty's call.
The little boy scrambled out onto the ledge outside the cave window.
He knew that she was calling him to come and look at something. By standing on tiptoe he could look into the hole, and when he looked he saw it was full of very white eggs, which was so exciting that he could not help calling out to the Good Wolf and Sat.u.r.day.
"Hel-lo! Hel-lo!" he shouted. "I'm coming and I've got some eggs for breakfast."
He was putting some into his blouse, which seemed a good place to carry them, when he saw the Good Wolf look up at him and then saw him turn towards the cliff and begin to run. He ran up the green slope so fast that he began to gallop, and he galloped until his tail and his hair streamed straight out behind him as they had done when he was running away from the tropical storm. He was excited.
Barty ran to meet him. He wanted to hear what had happened, so did Blue Crest; she flew after him. When they met the Good Wolf, he was quite out of breath and so was Barty. Blue Crest was not, but she fluttered down for a rest on Barty's shoulder.
"Have you a piece of gla.s.s in your pocket?" the Good Wolf panted out.
"Yes," answered Barty, beginning to fumble in his pockets. "At least I had yesterday a piece of grandma's old spectacles. Where is it?"
fumbling deeper and deeper. "Oh! I must have lost it! It's gone!"
"I thought so," said the Good Wolf. "It fell out of your pocket onto the beach and something has happened. Come and see what it is." You may be sure Barty did not lose any time. He had to hold his blouse tight so that the eggs would not break when he was running.
When he got to the beach he found Man Sat.u.r.day standing as he had seen him from the cliff ledge. He was looking very hard at the small pile of something Barty had noticed that they were watching when he first saw them.
"What is it?" he cried out, feeling very much interested himself.
"Don't you see anything curious?" asked the Good Wolf.
Barty drew nearer and the next minute he gave a shout.
"Smoke is beginning to come out of it," he said. "It looks like real smoke. What set it on fire? What is that s.h.i.+ning thing? Why, it's my piece of gla.s.s," and he made a jump towards it.
"Don't touch it," said the Good Wolf. "The sun has been s.h.i.+ning through it onto the leaves and has made it into a burning-gla.s.s, and it has lighted a fire. That is what has happened. Now you can cook your eggs."
"Let us roast them," said Barty. "Roasted eggs make you feel just like a picnic."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Barty drew nearer and next moment gave a shout]
Man Sat.u.r.day gave him a cunning little look and then began to be very busy indeed. He ran and brought more sticks and leaves and Barty knelt down and blew the tiny flame until it grew into a bigger one, and then he fanned with his hat until the chips and twigs were snapping.
In a few minutes there was fire enough to cook anything and then began the breakfast making. It _was_ like a picnic. They put the eggs in the hot sand to roast and found some crystals of salt dried in the crannies of the rocks. Man Sat.u.r.day brought some young cocoanuts and some of the roots that were like a potato, and they were roasted too.
Man Sat.u.r.day ran about chattering and imitated everything Barty did.
He seemed quite delighted with the idea of roasting things in hot ashes, and when Barty and the Good Wolf went together to their swimming pool to have a bath while the breakfast was cooking, he sat beside the fire and watched it, with his arms hugging his knees and his eyes twinkling. "He always looks as if he were thinking very hard indeed," Barty said. "Perhaps he is thinking now how queer it is that a piece of gla.s.s can set things on fire. I dare say he never saw fire before."