Peggy had not to do that.
In her little state-room on one side of the cabin, and in a hammock, she slept as soundly as the traditional top, and on a grass mat on the deck, with a footstool for a pillow, slumbered Beeboo.
Roland slept on the other side, and Brawn guarded the doorway at the foot of the steps.
Long before Peggy was awake, and every morning of their aquatic lives, the dinghy boat took the boys a little way out into mid-stream, and they stripped and dived, enjoyed a two-minutes' splash, and got quickly on board again.
The men always stood by with rifles to shoot any alligator that might be seen hovering nigh, and more than once reckless Dick had a narrow escape.
"But," he said one day in his comical way, "one has only once to die, you know, and you might as well die doing a good turn as any other way."
"Doing a good turn?" said Roland enquiringly.
"Certainly. Do you not impart infinite joy to a cayman if you permit him to eat you?"
The boys were always delightfully hungry half an hour before breakfast was served.
And it was a breakfast too!