“I believe so, Neale. At about sunrise, isn’t it?”
“Pretty near that,” agreed Neale. “I’ll wake you up when the time comes and show them to you, Agnes.”
“Of course, they are some seabird—Oh, no! That can’t be!” she cried. “For seabirds have feathers.”
“You had better not undertake to strain your mind, Aggie,” advised Neale. “Wait until the proper time.”
Agnes tossed her head again at that and refused to show any further interest in the mystery. Besides, there was so much to do just as soon as breakfast was over that they could not chatter any more about the eggs.
The sky was fleckless by this time and it did not seem possible that another storm could come up. But remembering how quickly and unexpectedly the tempest of the afternoon previous had broken, Mr. Howbridge first of all considered it wise to make provision for getting the motor-boat into a more sheltered roadstead. The cove was too open to the sea, and Neale, on his short exploring trip, had noted a more sheltered place at the eastern end of the island.
The boys and Mr. Howbridge waded out to the boat again, pushed her keel out of the sand, and proceeded to paddle the craft along the shore, while the girls strolled along the strand, easily keeping pace with the boat. They saw not a living thing on the island save lizards and birds. There was no sound from the jungle to affright them. The strand itself was a field of wonderful sea treasures, to be reaped as they pleased.
“It is a wonderful place,” Ruth declared. “I am really glad we came.”
“If we don’t have to stay too long,” ventured Agnes.
“I expect Mrs. MacCall and Aunt Sarah will be pretty lonely without us,” remarked Tess.