"I'm sure they are for something important," he said. "I am going to think very hard."
He stood up and put his hands in his pockets and he stood astride because boys can often think harder when they stand that way. Man Saturday tried to imitate him, but as he hadn't any pockets he put his hands on his hips and held his head on one side while he watched Barty with his sharp little eyes, all eagerness to see if he would find out what he meant. He looked so funny.
"You couldn't eat them however loose your belt was," Barty said, looking at the leaves. "And you couldn't drink them even if you were dreadfully thirsty—and you couldn't wear them even if your clothes were worn out as Robinson Crusoe's were. Even if you had a needle and thread to stitch them together they would break to pieces because they are so dry and brittle."
"Yes, they are very dry," remarked the Good Wolf, quietly.
And then all in a minute Barty felt sure he knew.
"If there were enough of them you could lie down on them," he said in great excitement. "That's what they are for! Saturday knows where there are more of them and they are for a bed." When he said that, Man Saturday gave a squeak of delight and he immediately caught at Barty's hand and began to pull him towards the passage which was the way out of the cave.
"He has got a store of them somewhere," said the Good Wolf, "and it is a place where the rain could not reach it. Let us trot along and see."
Barty and Man Saturday were trotting along already, at least Man Saturday was trotting and Barty was creeping through the passage, and in two minutes he was out on the side of the cliff again and standing upon the ledge outside the cave. It was a very convenient ledge, and you could walk nearly all round the cliff on it. It was the kind of ledge you would only find on a desert island like Barty's—a really nice desert island.
Man Saturday led the way, and after a few yards they came to a place where some trees and bushes hung over the edge, and beneath them was a hole in the rock, rather like a very little cave, and there were a great many leaves near the entrance to it. Anyone could see how they had got there. They were blown from the trees and bushes, and when Barty bent down and peeped into the hole he saw that it was full of leaves which had been blowing in there for years until the tiny cave seemed almost stuffed with them. No rain could reach them and so they were quite nice and dry.
The hole was too small for Barty to crawl into, but it was more than large enough for Man Saturday, and chattering to Barty as fast as he could he crawled in and began to put together another bundle. He got the twigs from a bush close by and he pushed leaves out to Barty, so that he might help him.