By this time I had been cast upon the island. It was not my own proposal, but David knew my wishes, and he made it all right for me with Oliver. They found me among the breakers with a large dog, which had kept me afloat throughout that terrible night. Iwas the sole survivor of the ill-fated Anna Pink. So exhausted was I that they had to carry me to their hut, and great was my gratitude when on opening my eyes, I found myself in that romantic edifice instead of in Davy Jones's locker. As we walked in the Gardens I told them of the hut they had built; and they were inflated but not surprised. On the other hand they looked for surprise from me.
"Did we tell you about the turtle we turned on its back?" asked Oliver, reverting to deeds of theirs of which I had previously told them.
"You did."
"Who turned it?" demanded David, not as one who needed information but after the manner of a schoolmaster.
"It was turned," I said, "by David A----, the younger of the two youths.""Who made the monkeys fling cocoa-nuts at him?" asked the older of the two youths.
"Oliver Bailey," I replied.
"Was it Oliver," asked David sharply, "that found the cocoa-nut-tree first?"
"On the contrary," I answered, "it was first observed by David, who immediately climbed it, remarking, 'This is certainly the cocos-nucifera, for, see, dear Oliver, the slender columns supporting the crown of leaves which fall with a grace that no art can imitate.'""That's what I said," remarked David with a wave of his hand.
"I said things like that, too," Oliver insisted.
"No, you didn't then," said David.
"Yes, I did so."
"No, you didn't so."
"Shut up."
"Well, then, let's hear one you said."
Oliver looked appealingly at me. "The following," I announced, "is one that Oliver said: 'Truly dear comrade, though the perils of these happenings are great, and our privations calculated to break the stoutest heart, yet to be rewarded by such fair sights I would endure still greater trials and still rejoice even as the bird on yonder bough.'""That's one I said!" crowed Oliver.
"I shot the bird," said David instantly.
"What bird?"
"The yonder bird."
"No, you didn't."
"Did I not shoot the bird?"
"It was David who shot the bird," I said, "but it was Oliver who saw by its multi-coloured plumage that it was one of the Psittacidae, an excellent substitute for partridge.""You didn't see that," said Oliver, rather swollen.
"Yes, I did."
"What did you see?"
"I saw that."
"What?"
"You shut up."
"David shot it," I summed up, "and Oliver knew its name, but Iate it. Do you remember how hungry I was?"
"Rather!" said David.
"I cooked it," said Oliver.
"It was served up on toast," I reminded them.
"I toasted it," said David.
"Toast from the bread-fruit-tree," I said, "which (as you both remarked simultaneously) bears two and sometimes three crops in a year, and also affords a serviceable gum for the pitching of canoes.""I pitched mine best," said Oliver.
"I pitched mine farthest," said David.
"And when I had finished my repast," said I, "you amazed me by handing me a cigar from the tobacco-plant.""I handed it," said Oliver.
"I snicked off the end," said David.
"And then," said I, "you gave me a light."
"Which of us?" they cried together.
"Both of you," I said. "Never shall I forget my amazement when Isaw you get that light by rubbing two sticks together."At this they waggled their heads. "You couldn't have done it!"said David.
"No, David," I admitted, "I can't do it, but of course I know that all wrecked boys do it quite easily. Show me how you did it."But after consulting apart they agreed not to show me. I was not shown everything.
David was now firmly convinced that he had once been wrecked on an island, while Oliver passed his days in dubiety. They used to argue it out together and among their friends. As I unfolded the story Oliver listened with an open knife in his hand, and David who was not allowed to have a knife wore a pirate-string round his waist. Irene in her usual interfering way objected to this bauble and dropped disparaging remarks about wrecked islands which were little to her credit. I was for defying her, but David, who had the knack of women, knew a better way; he craftily proposed that we "should let Irene in," in short, should wreck her, and though I objected, she proved a great success and recognised the yucca filamentosa by its long narrow leaves the very day she joined us. Thereafter we had no more scoffing from Irene, who listened to the story as hotly as anybody.
