“But Susan and Titty and I could never climb the tree. It’s got no sticky-out branches.”
Like most pines, the tree was bare of branches for the first fifteen or twenty feet of its height.
“If I can swarm up it as far as the bottom branch I could hang a rope over it so that both ends came to the ground. Then no one would have to climb it again. Anybody could tie the lantern to the rope and pull it up. One end would have to be tied to the ring on the top of the lantern, and the other to the bottom so that we could pull it either up or down, and keep it from swinging about.”
“Have we got enough rope?” said Roger.
“We haven’t any small enough. The anchor rope is much too thick, and the spare rope isn’t long enough. I’ll have to get some small rope tomorrow. It’s a good thing I had a birthday just before we came here. We can get plenty of rope with five shillings.”
Just then Mate Susan and Able-seaman Titty joined them, and threw themselves down in the heather.
“Everything’s ready for the night,” said Susan, “except the beds, and we can’t make them till the native brings the haybags.”
Titty jumped up. “There’s a boat coming now,” she said. “Roger, you must be sleepy, or you’d have seen it.”
“I’m not sleepy,” said Roger. “I wasn’t looking. You can be wide awake, and not see a thing when you aren’t looking.”
Captain John sat up, and put the telescope to his eye.
“It is the native,” he said, “and he’s got mother with him.”