She blew it again, three times.
John came slowly back up the path and after him the able-seaman and the boy, all three of them out of breath.
“You passed your own patteran,” said Susan. “It’s here.”
“So I did,” said Captain John. “I was thinking of something else. It’s a good thing you saw it.”
“That path might have taken us anywhere,” said Titty.
“Where is the patteran?” said Roger. “Somebody has kicked it away. Perhaps it was me. Let’s put it right again.”
“No, of course not,” said Captain John. “We put it there for ourselves to find our own way back. If we were to leave it now it would show the savages the way we had gone. We must unfasten these boughs too.” He cut the strings and the boughs sprang up again. “Now there’s nothing but the blaze, and it’s a very little one. No one will know where we left the path.”
“If they were good trackers,” said Titty, “they could follow our footprints.”
“It’s a good thing really that we went further than the patteran,” said Susan. “Our footprints will throw them off the scent. They’ll go on and on down the path.”
“On and on,” said Roger.
“To the end of the world,” said Titty.
“We mustn’t make any marks when we turn off the path,” said Susan, “that might show them.”