When they came back, rubbing the mud from their knees, for under the groundsheet it had been very damp and sticky, the female native said, “I’ve had a letter from daddy, and he reminded me of something. Can Roger swim yet?”
“He swam on his back for the first time today,” said John. “Three good strokes. Once he can do that he will be able to swim on his front quite easily.”
“Shall I show you?” said Roger, and was for running down to the landing-place at once.
“Before we go home,” said the female native. “Not this minute. Well, daddy said that Roger was to have a knife of his own as soon as he could swim, and I brought it with me in case he could.”
She dipped into the hamper for the last time and pulled out a knife with a good big blade. Roger was off with it at once, trying it on the trees. “Now I can make blazes, just like Titty,” he shouted.
“If you can really swim three strokes both on your back and on your front, you can keep it,” said the female native. “If not, I must take it back tonight and bring it again next time.”
“I’m sure I can do it,” said Roger, wiping the blade on his knickerbockers.
“You’ll have to show me,” said the female native. “No feet on the bottom, you know.”
“Not even one toe,” said Roger.
Then came the birthday feast. There is no need to say anything about that. It was a good one. No one had much time for talking. It ended after Roger had been sent to pick some bananas from the new banana tree.