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Four children camping on an island in the Lake District encounter adventures with tomboyish sisters who claim the island as their own.

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native began taking them out as if she were digging the presents out of a bran pie.

“Here is the milk-can for you,” she said, “and mind you keep the milk as cool as you can during the day. Keep it out of the sun and do remember to wash the can very clean before you take it up to the farm for more. Then, for tomorrow, I’ve brought you a meat pie Mrs. Jackson cooked today. You will soon get tired of living on corned beef.⁠ ⁠…”

“Pemmican,” said Titty.

“Pemmican,” said the female native. “So if I were you I should only open a pemmican tin when you haven’t anything else that you can eat without cooking. By the way, Susan is the chief cook, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Captain John.

“Then I’ll give the stores over to her. There is the pie. Then I’ve brought a box of Force for breakfast. Susan is going to have a busy time without having to cook porridge in the mornings.”

“I like cooking,” said Mate Susan.

“If you want to go on liking it,” said the female native, “take my advice and make the others do the washing up.”

Mr. Jackson came up again from the boat, carrying a big sack.

“ Mrs. Jackson has been good enough to let you have your pillows here,” said the female native. “You can sleep without them, I know, but a pillow makes such a lot of difference that I’m sure Christopher Columbus himself always took his own pillow with him.”

The pillows were taken out and two were taken into each tent.

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