He gathered dried grass and sticks, cleared a space of earth and built three fires, two on the ground with a large lump of hard clay on either side of each, the third in a hole that he scraped out.
"To be consistent I ought to produce fire by rubbing two pieces of dried wood together, as they do in books of adventure," he said, turning to the interested girl. "It can be done. I have seen natives do it; but it is a lengthy process and I prefer a match."
He took out a box and lit the fires.
"Now," he said, "if you'll see to these for me, I'll go and get the kettle and crockery."
At the far end of the glade was a clump of bamboos. Dermot selected the biggest stem and hacked it down with his kukri. From the thicker end he cut off a length from immediately below a knot to about a foot above it, trimmed the edges and brought it to Noreen. It made a beautifully clean and polished pot, pale green outside, white within.
"There is your kettle and tea-pot," he said.
From a thinner part he cut off similarly two smaller vessels to serve as cups.
"Now then for the water to fill the kettle," he said, looking around among the creepers festooning the trees for the pani bêl. When he found the plant he sought, he cut off a length and brought it to the girl, who had never heard of it. Asking her to hold the bamboo pot he filled it with water from the creeper, much to her astonishment.
"How wonderful!" she cried. "Is it really good to drink?"
"Perfectly."