The palm trunk was rough and husky. Climbing it on hands and knees was a hard task, but not particularly dangerous. As she kept her eyes fixed ahead of her, Tess did not note particularly the height to which she climbed.
Once in the tops of the several palms she was easily able to fasten her plaid skirt out upon a frond which had a free sweep toward the water. This signal of distress was what the party on Palm Island had seen just before the raft set sail on its voyage of rescue.
Because Tess had climbed along the tree trunk and hung out her banner, she felt more brave. And even Dot looked at her sister in wide-eyed admiration.
“I guess Ruthie would have scolded you, Tess,” she said. “But you can climb almost as good as Sammy.”
“Oh, Sammy!” ejaculated Tess.
Having got into the wood, they went back afterward through the middle of the island. And in this way the two little girls came upon what to them seemed a very strange place indeed. The lianas and other vines made the walking difficult and Tess had just said they would have to go back to the shore when suddenly the two little girls stepped right out into an opening where there was a still blue lake as quiet and safe looking as a millpond.
