“Yes,” he said, as he returned, “that would be easy enough.”
“Then, do you know what we have to do next?”
“No.”
“Go and stop up the big hole in the wood.”
Scarlett thought for a moment, and then agreed, following his companion to the opening, and climbing out in turn.
“How shall we do it?” he said.
“The rougher the better,” cried Fred, who was by far the more practical of the two. “Let’s get great dead branches, and lay them over anyhow, leaving a hole like a chimney, so as to give light. Come along; I’ll show you. The more natural the better, in case any one should come here.”
“Which is not likely,” replied Scarlett.
“I don’t know; Nat might. Work away.”
They did work away, and with good effect. They had no difficulty in getting plenty of rough pieces, which they laid across, first like the rafters over a shed, and then piled others upon them in the most careless-looking fashion, after which some long strands of ivy and bramble were dragged across, to act the double purpose of binding all together and looking natural.