“Look,” she whispered, pointing her finger to the opposite shore. “There are cannibals. Do not let them see us, or they will roast us and eat us alive.”
Beth sank down with a shiver, clutching at Helen’s bare feet as though to find protection in them. At length, she found courage to raise her eyes and look where Helen pointed. “Those—those—cannibals,” she cried. Her voice was a mixture of relief and scorn. “They’re only boys in swimming. That big one is Jimmy—”
“They are cannibals, and that big one is the chief. Don’t let them see us. Let us creep softly away.” They crept. It was a horrifying experience. No one could tell what might have happened, had not a distant sail appeared.
“A ship! A ship! We shall be saved,” cried the Queen of Sheba, kicking up her sunburnt legs and waving her arms with delight.
“A ship! A ship! We are saved,” and Mrs. Princess of Wales indulged in antics which are not generally practiced by people of royal blood.
“Put up a signal of distress,” said Mrs. Queen of Sheba.
“Here is a flag. Put it on the pole,” cried the Princess of Wales. She promptly stuck her sunbonnet on the end of a stick and waved frantically to and fro.
So while the cannibals were shrieking and performing wild antics on the opposite shore, the Queen of Sheba and the Princess of Wales crept on board the water-logged boat and were saved.
These were glorious days. The little girls lacked for nothing. What was not theirs in actuality, became theirs by the gift of imagination. They reveled in motor cars, airships, mansions and pink velvet furniture. They were billionaires, with all the possessions and none of the trouble of taking care of them.
They were happy together for several weeks. Then Helen invited Beth to her birthday party, and Beth was heart-broken. Even Adee could not comfort her for a time.