“Sit still, nurse, till I get ashore,” said the female native.
The Swallows had already seized the boat and pulled it up. There was a big hamper in the boat just forward of the rowing thwart. The female native climbed round it.
“Welcome to Wild Cat Island,” said Titty.
“Welcome, welcome,” shouted the others.
There was a general scramble. Mother might be a native, but it was all right to kiss her none the less.
The female native counted the Swallows after she had kissed them. “One, two, three, four,” she said. “No one drowned yet. That’s a good thing, because it’s somebody’s birthday.”
“Whose? Whose?” they shouted. “It can’t be John’s, because he’s just had one.”
“No, it isn’t John’s.”
“Is it mine?” said Roger.
“No,” said mother.
“Is it mine?” said Titty.
“No.”
“It can’t be mine,” said Susan, “because mine’s on New Year’s Day, and this is summer.”
“Whose is it?” they asked.
“Vicky’s, of course,” said the female native. “She’s two. Rather too young for a birthday, really, so I’ve brought a present for each of you.”