“I expect they’ve gone to meet the Blackett children,” said mother.
“Man Friday ought not to know anything about them,” said Titty.
“Very well, I won’t,” said mother. “But what are you doing all by yourself?”
“Properly I’m in charge of the camp,” said Titty. “But while they’re not here it doesn’t make any difference if I’m Robinson Crusoe instead.”
“I am sure it doesn’t,” said mother. “Have they left you anything to eat?”
“I’ve got my rations in the tent,” said Titty.
“Well, it’s high time you ate them,” said mother. “Will you let Man Friday put some more wood on the fire, and make some tea? I can’t stay very long, but perhaps they’ll be back before I go.”
“I don’t think they will,” said Titty. “They’ve sailed across the Pacific Ocean. Timbuktu is nothing to where they’ve gone.”
“Well, I’ll make some tea, anyhow,” said mother. “Let’s see what they’ve left you in the way of rations.”
Titty brought out her rations, a good big hunk of pemmican, some brown bread, some biscuits, and a large fat slice of cake. Man Friday did not think much of them. “Still,” she said, “I think we shall be able to make a meal. What about butter? And potatoes? What if we were to make pemmican cakes?”
Man Friday rummaged in the store box, and found some butter which was rather soft. She sniffed at it, and said it ought to be eaten, anyhow, and more would have to be got from Mrs. Dixon’s tomorrow. She found some potatoes and also the salt. Robinson Crusoe had the tea among her rations, rolled up in a screw of paper. She also had a tobacco box full of sugar.