It was certainly the strangest little town that Creggan had ever visited. It consisted of about sixty huts in all, each of which was elevated above the water on strong poles or scaffolding, fully nine feet above the surface.
The walls of these huts were of bamboo, that is, the framework. Over this slabs of pith were placed. The roofs were of grass and plantain leaves, and each was supplied with a shutter, generally open all day to admit light and air, and get rid of smoke. Into one of the largest of these huts our heroes crawled by a withy ladder, while Ephraim returned, promising to be back an hour before sunset.
Well, Creggan was quite astonished at the amount of room inside this lake-dwelling, although the walls from platform to eaves were only about five feet high.
The floor was of pith over bamboo, and spread with a charmingly-worked grass carpet. A fire could be lit, when needed for cooking purposes, on a red-clay hearth at one end. But at present it was out, so the room was delightfully cool.
Their welcome was a hearty one, and as Creggan had brought beads and ribbons and tobacco as gifts, the owner—a fine-looking specimen,—his young wife, and two toddling children were all delighted.
But Creggan, or rather Goodwin, had brought also a bountiful repast. There was quite enough for all.
The chief—if chief he was—nodded significantly to his wife, muttering something that our young fellows could not understand. She immediately arose and put both children to bed in a corner. They didn't require any undressing, for the dear wee black totties, as Ugly Duckling called them, wore nothing save a string of kangaroo teeth.
Then the good lady brought knives and spears, and other implements of savage warfare, and laid them down on the mat on which Creggan and his friends were squatting.
This was an act of good faith, and said plainly enough:
"Lo! you are safe in my hut. Behold I place all my weapons at your feet."