"Your father always says not to worry, but the Lord will help us out of any fix, if we do our best first," said Charley. "He's right. Isn't it just great, Toby, that you saw it and shot it! I feel like yelling, I feel so happy!"
"Just get out and yell all you wants to," grinned Toby. "We'll have one good feed, whatever."
In remarkably short time the owl was plucked, dressed and boiling merrily over the fire in a kettle that was becoming rusty from disuse.
"We'll be eatin' the broth first, and then the meat a bit at a time, and often," suggested Toby. "The Indians says if they eats too much when they first gets un after starvin' 'tis like to make un sick. Sometimes they gets wonderful sick, too."
"Then we'll be careful," agreed Charley, "though it's mighty hard not to pitch right in. I feel as though I could eat it all and then want more."
"So does I," grinned Toby, "and I'm not doubtin' you could eat un all, and I knows 'twould be easy for me to eat un."
How delicious the broth tasted, unsalted and unseasoned as it was! And when they drank it all, and temptation got the better of them and they each ate a small portion of the meat.
"'Tis growing calmer on the water," Toby announced when he had covered the kettle and hidden its contents from their hungry eyes. "I sees un when I'm out and sees the owl in the tree. The water's smokin' just fine now. Come and have a look, Charley."
"All right," said Charley reluctantly rising, though cheerfully. "If I stay here by the kettle, I'll not be able to leave the meat alone, and one of us mustn't have any more of it than the other."
Down on the sunny side of the island Charley all at once clutched Toby's arm.