the oars lifted from the water. And long after they could not see them at all, they could hear the sound of rowing, growing fainter and fainter in the distance.
“We’d better be getting to sleep before it’s quite dark,” said Mate Susan.
“Lights out in half an hour,” said Captain John.
“But we haven’t lit our lights yet,” said Roger.
“No, but we’re just going to,” said Captain John, opening his lantern and striking a match. There was still some light outside, though not much under the trees, but in the tents it was quite dark. John lit his lantern and took it into his tent and put it on the tin box, which he moved into the middle so that there should be no danger of setting fire to the tent walls. Then he remembered that the female native had done something in his tent just before she went away. He looked round to see what it was. Pinned to the tent wall near the head of his bed was a scrap of paper. On it was written, “If not duffers won’t drown.”
“Daddy knows we aren’t duffers,” said John to himself.
Susan had put her lantern on one of the two biscuit tins. She and Titty were making their beds comfortable.
The two tents looked like big paper lanterns glowing under the trees. Shadows moved about inside them. It always takes some time to get comfortable on a haybag the first night. There were voices.
“Are you all right, Titty?”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“What about that boy?”
“He’s all right, Mister Mate. Are you ready for Lights out?”