It was a weird scene,—the star-dotted sky above, the black, whispering water below, the clumsy raft in the light of the hot fire swept back by the breeze, the slender, eager-eyed, half-naked boy watching keenly, as mass after mass of the mango bushes came into the circle of their light. Marian generally guided the raft, for she was better at that than Delbert, who seemed about as successful as she with the spear.
Not that either of them had any startling success. Indeed, for a long time it always seemed accidental, more the fish’s fault than theirs, when one became impaled upon the iron prongs. But the sport was exciting, and there was always the need that lay back of it to keep their interest spurred up, and after a while they both learned to strike quickly and with force, so that, with constant practice, the time came when a night’s spearing meant enough fish for one meal at least, and, if luck was with them, for more.
They had better luck with the spear at night than with the line in the daytime, for the hairpin hook was very inadequate and big fish were forever straightening it out. When a fish was speared, they put it into the barrel with the fuel, where one of the girls held a piece of drift-wood over it till the wildest of its flopping was past.
THEY HAD BETTER LUCK WITH THE SPEAR AT NIGHT THAN WITH THE LINE IN THE DAYTIME
Davie generally fell asleep, and then it took the whole attention of Jennie to hold him safe. Indeed, Marian would not risk him with just that, and used to take a rope along to tie him when he finally dozed off. He objected strenuously to being tied as long as he was awake enough to know it, but, once he was asleep, she could moor him securely, and Jennie could devote herself to keeping him cuddled and covered, with no fear that he would roll out of her hands when the raft careened with some of the spearman’s wild lunges.
When they had as many fish as they wanted, or, more often, when their fuel was exhausted, they would paddle back to the little pier, moor the raft, wash the fishiness off their hands and climb back up to the Cave, where they would cuddle down in bed and quickly go to sleep.
Then in the quiet, as she thought of her mother, Marian’s eyes would fill with tears and her outstretched hand would pass lovingly over each little form. “Safe as yet,” she would whisper, “and, O mother, I promise to keep them safe till I can give them back to you again.”