Chapter Eight.
The Raft.
When Limberleg woke the next morning, the bright sunshine was pouring into the cave, lighting up the very farthest corner of it. The vines which overhung the entrance were waving in the breeze, and their shadows were dancing gayly on the chalk floor.
Limberleg sat up and looked out. From the door she could see miles and miles of open water. To the north were the shores of England. Below was a beautiful sandy beach, and a little way from the shore there were rocks sticking out of the water. Gulls were wheeling and screaming about the rocks.
Limberleg took the gourd and went down the little green path to the spring for water. When she came back, the others were still sleeping. So she crept out through the path to the hill-top and gathered sticks to replenish the fire.
She was already broiling the venison when the others woke.
At breakfast, she said to Hawk-Eye, “I believe I will stay in the cave to-day, it is such a lot of work to start a new fire every day, and I can keep this one burning. Besides, the Twins must have new skins pretty soon. Those fox-furs they are now wearing are getting shabby. I will cure the deer-skin we brought home last night for them.”
“We must get more skins,” said Hawk-Eye. “We shall need them when cold weather comes. I will get the meat, and you can cook, and cure the skins, and tend the fire.”
Then Hawk-Eye went off hunting, to be gone all day. The Twins ran down to the beach and went in wading. They were not so afraid of the water as they had been, but they stayed near shore because they could see great fish tumbling about in the waves, and they didn’t know whether they ate children or not. Probably the fish didn’t know, either. They had never had any to try. Anyway, the Twins thought they would not find out what their tastes were in the matter, and so they stayed near the shore,—or at least they meant to.