Madge and Eleanor laughed.
"Miss Jenny Ann does not know the woods at this time of the year, does she?" protested Eleanor. "We can play at being squirrels and live on nuts as soon as a frost comes."
"'There are as many fish in the sea as ever were caught'," quoted Lillian gayly.
"And crabs," added Phil. "And rabbits and birds and goodness knows what-all in the woods. Why, it is a perfectly wonderful adventure! Suppose we are alone on this island? I'll wager you no American girls ever had an experience like this before."
It was a weary trip back to the houseboat, but there were so many plans to be made for this pioneer existence. The girls decided that they intended to play at being their own great-great grandmothers. They were settlers who had just landed on the shores of a new country. They must prove that they had the old fighting blood of their ancestors.
At the edge of the wood Madge gallantly seized hold of a good-sized log, dragging it toward the shore in the direction of the houseboat.
"What ho, my hearty?" questioned Phil, coming to her assistance. "What do you intend to do with this tree?"
"Kindly refer to your 'Robinson Crusoe' and your 'Swiss Family Robinson' and you will know. We must make a kind of raft, so that we can go back and forth to the houseboat without getting wet every time we go aboard."
Miss Jones, Lillian and Eleanor managed to haul another log of nearly equal size. On the shore the girls lashed the two logs together with short ends of their precious clothes line.
Madge took off her shoes and stockings, pinned up her skirts, and, getting down on her knees, with a stick for a paddle, started forth on her raft. She claimed the honor of the first trip, since the idea had first been hers.