used between the harbour and the landing-place. Here the undergrowth was thick, and the bushes were tangled with honeysuckle. It was like forcing your way through a jungle. Titty once more became Robinson Crusoe on his desert island.
She came out close by the landing-place, and stopped short. Something had happened while she was looking at the steamer and the polite dipper. She was no longer alone on the island. There was a rowing boat with its nose pulled up on the beach. A moment later she knew what boat it was. It was the rowing boat from Holly Howe. She ran up to the camp, and there was mother looking at the empty tents.
“Hullo, Man Friday,” said Titty joyfully.
“Hullo, Robinson Crusoe,” said mother. That was the best of mother. She was different from other natives. You could always count on her to know things like that.
Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday then kissed each other as if they were pretending to be Titty and mother.
“You didn’t expect to see me so soon after yesterday,” said mother, “but I came to say something to John. I suppose he’s with the rest of the crew in that secret harbour of yours that poor natives are not allowed to see.”
“No. He isn’t on the island just at present,” said Titty. “No one is except me … and now you too.”
“So you really are Robinson Crusoe,” said mother, “and I am Man Friday in earnest. If I’d known that I’d have made a good big footprint on the beach. But where are the others?”
“They’re all right,” said Titty. “They’re coming back again. They’ve gone in Swallow on a cutting-out expedition.” More than that she could not well say, because, after all, Man Friday might be mother, but she was also a native, even if she was the best native in the world.