They also erected a small rock stove, for there was enough firewood to be gathered, in the way of fallen branches, dead leaves and "peelings" from the tree-trunks, to last them for several days. The hatchet and hack saw helped prepare these scraps to fit the stove and by sundown the girls felt quite settled in their new residence.
"We ought to fly a flag of distress from some place high up on those trees," observed Orissa; "but we've no flag and no way to shin up the tree."
"Couldn't any ship see our white tent from the ocean?" asked Sybil.
"Yes; I think so."
"As for climbing the tree," continued Sybil, "I wish your creative brain would evolve some way to do it. Those fat, yellow bananas look mighty tempting and they would serve to eke out our larder. Supplies are beginning to diminish with alarming rapidity, Ris. Only a box and a half of those biscuits left."
"I know," said Orissa, soberly. "To-morrow we will see what may be done to capture the bananas."
After a time Sybil said, softly: "By to-morrow we may begin to look for Daddy and Steve. Of course it will take them some time to find us, but——Don't you think, Orissa, they're quite certain to find us, in the end?"
Orissa looked at her companion with a gleam of pity in her deep blue eyes; but she had no desire to disturb Sybil's confidence in their rescue, whatever misgivings oppressed her own heart.
"I believe they will find us," she affirmed. "It may not be to-morrow, you know, nor in a week, nor—perhaps—in a month——"
"Oh, Orissa!"