The biggest boy laughed, too. “No, we aren’t Indians,” he said shyly. “We are Captain Prout’s children from the Cove. I am Tom and this is Mary. That one with the freckles is Susan, and the three little ones are Bill and Bob and Jane.”
“The little Prouts!” exclaimed Rose; and they all looked at one another curiously. Although Kenneth and Rose had been coming to the Island for years, this was the first time that they had stood face to face with their little neighbors who brought the milk every morning. The Prout children had always been very shy. After they had stared for some time, Kenneth remembered to be polite.
“How do you do?” he said. “I am Kenneth Thornton, and this is my sister Rose.”
“Oh, we know who you are,” said Mary Prout, “and we knew you came yesterday. We heard you yell for help just now, and we guessed where we’d find you. We were right close by. We were coming back to get the berries that Sue left here,”—she stopped abruptly, seeing the empty pail which Rose was holding.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” said Rose. “We have eaten all your lovely berries; but we thought the fairies had brought them to us.” Then they all laughed and felt better acquainted. “I suppose this is your shawl, too?” asked Rose, pulling it off.
“Yes,” said Mary, “but you are very welcome to it and the berries, too. I am so glad we left them here!”
“But how did you know about our wigwam?” said Kenneth.
The little Prouts looked at one another and laughed. “Why, you see,” said Tom, “we thought it was our wigwam. We built it, you know”—
“You built it!” interrupted Kenneth and Rose together.
“We thought it was the Indians,” explained Kenneth.