V
THE RICE RIVER
On the first day of the journey Ralph, according to the immemorial instinct of travellers, started a diary, and illustrated it with rough day to day maps. He wrote it up by the campfire during the long twilights, or while they basked in the sun at the noon spell. Charley never noticed it, but whenever the little black book was produced Nahnya looked curious and oddly annoyed. But she could not very well order Ralph to give it up.
On the afternoon of the day following Ralph's outbreak and their midnight reconciliation her curiosity finally found vent in speech. Passing down the largest of the lakes a strong head wind had blown up, and after struggling against it for a couple of hours, and thoroughly wetting themselves and their baggage without making much progress, Nahnya had ordered a landing. They now lay in rustling grass on a point of land blown upon by the strong fresh wind, and deliciously warmed by the sun. Charley had fallen asleep. When Ralph brought out the diary Nahnya said:
"What do you write in your little book?"
"Just what we see every day," said Ralph.
Nahnya frowned a little. "You promise me you never tell what you see," she said.
"I never will," said Ralph quickly. "No one but myself shall ever read this."
"Maybe some one find it," said Nahnya. "What good is your promise then?"
"It is written in shorthand," he said, exhibiting it. "No one can read it but me."