"I know where you found that," said Molly; "in the fairy tale we were reading the other day."
Polly admitted the fact and the ship being now ready to launch, they proceeded to the shore where Polly pointed out the island. This was a large rock, nearly covered at high tide, but now showing quite a surface above the water. Its rugged sides held caves quite large enough for persons of such size as the Roseberry family, and they were presently hidden behind their barnacled barriers. In a little pool the Hips family were set afloat while the Applebys contented themselves with gathering stores of supposed precious stones from the little beach.
The Hips family had hardly set sail before Polly invoked a storm and stirred to monster waves the waters in their pool, so they were in great danger. "Oh, dear, the youngest Hips is floating away and I can't save him," cried Mary.
"Never mind, let him go; there are plenty more of them," returned Polly heartlessly banging her stick up and down in the water so the ship would rock more violently. "They've got to be wrecked, you know," she added. "I'll drive them on that rock, then you can grab them before they sink and get them on the raft."
Mary managed to rescue all but one more of the family, and these were set adrift on a piece of birch bark to which Polly tied a string that they might not go beyond return. She also allowed the storm to cease, but this was because the gang of wreckers had to haul up the ship and gather in their plunder. She kept up so lively an account of their doings that Molly left the Applebys to their own devices and Mary drew the Hipses to shore that she might listen to Polly's blood-curdling account of Bold Ben and the rest. Polly did not have to draw altogether from her imagination, for her brothers had been too often her playmates for her not to be ready with tales of plunder and adventure.
Time passed very quickly and the children became so absorbed in the manoeuvres of the gang that they did not notice the stealthy rise of the tide till Mary exclaimed, "Oh, the Hipses have floated off and they were quite high on the beach!"
Polly looked around her. "No wonder," she said; "the tide is rising. We'd better start back." Leaving Bold Ben and his comrades to their fate, she ran to the further side of the rock, but here she hesitated. The sea was steadily making in, sending little cascades over the weed-covered ledges each time it retreated.
"Can't you get across?" asked Molly, as she came up with her Applebys, and saw Polly standing still.
"I'm almost afraid to jump," said Polly, "for if a big wave should come in suddenly it might wash in over my feet and the sea-weed is so slippery I'm afraid to trust to it, where it is shallower." Molly looked up at the rocky shelf jutting out above her. "If we could only get up there," she said.
"But we can't; it is too far to climb to that first jutty-out place, and we can't crawl under and then up, like flies."