Baby Island (7 page)

Tired as they were, after their long journey pulling the boat, Mary knew that there was much work to be done before dark. She ran back to where Jean waited with the babies. With the help of the tide which was now in, they securely beached the boat beyond the reach of the waves. Then Mary carried Ann Elizabeth and Jean took Jonah, and each led a tottery twin by the hand to the site of their new home.

“Now, I hate to do this,” said Mary, “and as soon as we get settled we won’t have to, but today we’ll have to stake the babies out like goats.”

“Not Jonah, surely,” protested Jean.

“No, I guess Jonah will stay put, if we make him a nice
little bed. But the others would be tumbling into the stream or falling off cliffs or what not, and you and I have work to do.”

So, with the rope which they had found in the lifeboat, the three walking and creeping babies were tied up to palm trees. Ann Elizabeth promptly crept around and around her tree until she was completely wound up, and then she sat down amiably to play with her fingers. The twins pranced and bellowed at the ends of their ropes, but Mary, knowing them safe, paid no attention to them and fell to work.

“We’ll have a tepee, Jean,” she said. “It’s the easiest thing we can build, and I know how. Do you remember the one Cousin Alex made us in the back yard two years ago?”

The first things needed were some long poles. Taking the two hatchets, which had also been part of the lifeboat equipment, they started out to get the poles. Jean, whose knack for discovery always stood them in good stead, found a bamboo grove a little farther upstream, and the long poles, which were both light and strong, seemed just the thing to make the framework of the tepee. They had soon cut enough for their use, and, stripping them of leaves, they stuck them in the soft ground in the form of a large circle. Then they tied the tops together with a piece of rope. The canvas sail, eked out with a few palm leaves, made a very
good cover for the tepee. Inside they made beds of boughs and leaves, spreading the tarpaulin over all to keep out the dampness from the ground. With the blankets arranged on top in comfortable beds, it looked as if they should have a very agreeable night. They laid a circle of stones beside the stream, and that evening had their first campfire. It was pleasant to have warm food again, even if it was only heated in cans and cups, but more pleasant still, it was, to have a friendly flame to hold back the dark mystery of the tropical night.

Jean and the babies went to sleep early, but Mary sat a long while by the fire, hating to let it go out. This was their first night back from the beach. What lay in the jungle just beyond? They did not know at all. There might be savages or wild beasts there, for all Mary knew. She had not mentioned her fears to Jean, because she did not want to worry her.

“Well,” she said to herself at last, “it certainly won’t help any for me to worry. Either we’ll be devoured or we won’t be devoured, and I couldn’t do much to save us anyway.” Leaving a little fire burning in the ring of stones, she crawled into the crowded tepee to sleep. Pulling off her dress and folding it neatly, Mary hummed a tune under her breath. She hummed, very softly so as not to waken the others, the tune “Scots, Wha’ Hae wi’ Wallace Bled.”

Sometime later Mary awoke with a start. A frightful howling and chattering filled the air. She sat up straight, and it seemed for a moment as if her heart would stop beating altogether. Even Jean was startled out of her dreams and sat up too. The fire had gone out, but a flood of moonlight silvered everything and made the canvas of the tepee look white between the dark bamboo poles. Suddenly there was a swish of palm leaves, and a small black shadow swung itself across the white canvas. Mary gave a frightened gasp. Was it something inside the tent? But, no, Mary’s better judgment told her in an instant that something
outside
the tent had swung by close enough to cast a shadow on their walls. As the shadow flashed by, Jean drew in her breath sharply and then let out such a scream that all the babies awoke and began to scream too.

For a moment the chattering and howling outside ceased. There was a pattering of many little feet, several shadows swung across the canvas, and then the chattering sounded farther and farther away. It was as if many little creatures had been put to flight.

“Well, you certainly scared them, whatever they were,” said Mary, “but I must say you didn’t set a very good example to the babies. Now you can just help me put ’em to sleep again.”

A little cuddling, soothing, and singing finally eased the
babies off to sleep. But Mary and Jean were too wide awake now to do more than lie still listening. After the howling and chattering, and the crying of the babies, there was deep silence. Then out of this great silence began to come a faint, persistent crying, very pitiful to hear. Something outside the tepee seemed lost and sad and begging for help. The crying went on and on, so mournfully that Mary could scarcely bear it She turned from side to side, trying to close her ears to the hopeless sound. At last she sat up softly and pulled on her dress.

“You’re not going out there, Mary?” begged Jean.

“I’ve got to go,” said Mary. “There’s a baby crying.”

“Oh, babies!” said Jean, and it seemed to her that for once in her life she’d had enough of them.

Mary slipped out of the tent, and Jean could hear her tiptoeing around and making soft calling noises. Then everything was still for a long time, or so it seemed to Jean.

But at last Mary came softly back, and clinging to the front of her dress was a very tiny monkey. When the girls looked at him he covered his eyes with his little hands and shivered with fright. Mary held him gently, making soft, reassuring noises, and presently he hid himself under her arm, clinging closely to her warm body.

“You see,” she said, “the other monkeys ran off and left him. Jeannie, we’ve got to take in another baby!”

CHAPTER SEVEN

T
HE
next day they put the little monkey out where his mother could find him if she chose, but she never returned for him. The screams from the tepee had frightened the monkeys so that they never wished to return. But it seemed to make very little difference to the baby monkey. He had found a new family which he liked quite as well as the old. The girls fed him and petted him.

Although Mary had been the one to rescue him, he soon became Jean’s particular baby. Some spirit of mischief and adventure in the two linked them together almost from the start. Jean named him Prince Charley after the ranch her father managed in Australia, and it was not long before he knew his name and came when he was called. Unfortunately he often got himself into trouble with Mary, because he liked to steal Jonah’s bottle, pull Ann Elizabeth’s hair, or get the twins into mischief. But he was so gay and amusing that they could forgive him a great deal.

The girls soon settled down to a regular routine of housekeeping. As the days passed Mary checked them off on
her calendar, so that they would know where they were in point of time, and Jean as regularly “mailed” her letter to Aunt Emma, sealing it in an empty can and tossing it out to sea. Sometimes the waves brought it back, sometimes on a calm day when the tide was going out it danced away in the sunshine until it was lost to sight. Mary always sighed and shook her head when Jean performed this rite; but she said nothing, as Jean seemed to derive some comfort from it.

One of the first things they had to do was to build a pen for the babies, so that they could play safely without straying away. In the shade of a couple of palms they built a small stockade by driving sharpened sticks close together
into the ground. It was a hard task but well worth the trouble, for the twins and Ann Elizabeth were content to play there for hours without danger.

Another great achievement was the building of the “pram”—perambulator for long, pram for short. This, like the tepee, was an idea which they had got from Cousin Alex’s fund of Indian lore. They made a litter of boughs, tied together with the strong sinewy vines that abounded everywhere and some pieces of their precious rope. More vines and rope made a sort of double harness which the girls put around their shoulders. When they wanted to go anywhere, they loaded the litter with blankets and babies and dragged the whole thing along behind them. True, it was very slow, and they once lost Blue off altogether and had to go back nearly a quarter of a mile for him. But on the whole the pram was very successful. They found the abundance of vines useful for many purposes. Jean discovered a natural swing hanging between two trees in the edge of the jungle.

“Don’t you let either of them fall, Jean,” warned Mary. “I’ve got an awful responsibility to Mrs. Snodgrass, and I don’t know whether she would approve of swinging or not.”

“Oh, they love it, Mary, and I’ll be awfully careful of them. You know,” Jean added a little wistfully, “I’m really beginning to feel settled—now that we have a swing.”

They soon discovered that, when the tide was out, the
little sun-warmed pools among the rocks made splendid bathtubs for the babies. One morning while baths were in progress, Jean suddenly began to rub her eyes.

“Mary, do you see what I see?”

“I see four darling babies, if that’s what you mean,” said Mary happily.

“No, look down at that sandy stretch! Look! There are funny little squirts of water coming up.”

“Sure enough,” said Mary.

“But Mary, you’re so calm about it. I think it’s mighty queer to see water squirting right out of the sand. Come on, Pink, you’re dry enough, now. Let’s investigate.” Taking Elisha by the hand, and Prince Charley on her shoulder, she went down the beach to look at the queer little holes from which the water came. She picked up a piece of driftwood, and began to dig where the tiny spout of water had been. Presently she was digging faster and faster.

“Ach! Mary! There’s something down here,” she called. “And it’s going down just as fast as I can dig. Oh, wait a minute,
you!
I’m getting it!” Suddenly she gave a triumphant shout. “Mary, look what the cat brought in!” And Jean held aloft an oval shell.

“Why, Jeannie, it’s a clam!” cried Mary. “Aren’t you a smart girl! Folks stew them or steam them or something and eat them for dinner.”

Jean was through with baby washing for the rest of the morning. She ran for the pail, put her clam safely inside it, and began to dig wherever she saw a spout of water. The Pink Twin waddled joyfully behind her, digging very busily, too, but never catching any clams.

“Clams! clams!”
[sang Jean].

“We haven’t got pork chops
,

We haven’t got hams
,

We haven’t got mutton

Or beef or lambs;

But we’ve got clams

An’ clams an’ clams!”

The bottom of her pail was well covered when the Pink Twin suddenly uttered a fearful howl.