Jill took it and at once brushed Tom's hair with it. Tom was disgusted.
"Don't, you cuckoo!" he said. "I shall smell of fish all night long."
"Come on," said Andy. "We want more heather for our beds. Tom, stamp out the fire. We don't want to set the hill alight, and the heather is very dry."
Tom stamped out the fire. The girls filled the tent with more, heather. Andy took the largest rug and spread it all over the springy pile.
"You girls can sleep on this side of the tent, and Tom and I will take the other," he said. "There are plenty of rugs, luckily."
Nobody undressed. For one thing they had no night-clothes, and for another they didn't even think of it Life seemed quite different on an unknown island. Nobody even thought of going to wash—though Tom's hair smelt so much of old fish that Andy threatened to pour a kettle of water over it.
"I'll wash my head under the spring to-morrow morning," said Tom sleepily. "I really can't go now. I'm simply dropping asleep whilst I talk!"
They rolled themselves up in their rugs and lay flat on the heathery bed. It was beautifully soft and springy, and very comfortable once they had pressed down several sharp bits that stuck into them.
Tom was asleep at once. The girls lay awake for a minute or two. Jill felt very hot, for the tent was airless, and the four of them made quite a crowd in it. The — roof was not more than arm's length above their heads.
"Andy," said Jill, in a low voice. "I'm so hot. Could we get some air in, do you think?"