“I can easily manufacture another,” the Hermit said, laughing. “I’m used to the process. Only I don’t suppose I could get it done soon enough for afternoon tea.”
“We’ve loads of tucker,” Jim said. “Far more than we’re likely to eat. Milk, too. We meant to boil the billy again before we start for home.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Norah said, struck by a brilliant idea. “Let’s coo-ee for Billy, and when he comes send him back for our things. Then if—if Mr. Hermit likes, we could have tea at his camp.”
“Why, that’s a splendid notion,” the Hermit cried. “I’m delighted that you thought of it, Miss Norah, although I’m sorry my guests have to supply their own meal! It doesn’t seem quite the thing—but in the bush, polite customs have to fall into disuse. I only keep up my own good manners by practising on old Turpentine, my snake! However, if you’re so kind as to overlook my deficiencies, and make them up yourselves, by all means let us come along and coo-ee for sweet William!”
He shouldered one of the bags of fish as he spoke, disregarding a protest from the boys. Jim took the second, and they set out for the camp.
Their way led for some time along the track by which they had come, if “track” it might be called. Certainly, the Hermit trod it confidently enough, but the others could only follow in his wake, and wonder by what process he found his way so quickly through the thick bush.
About half a mile along the creek the Hermit suddenly turned off almost at right angles, and struck into the scrub. The children followed him closely, keeping as nearly at his heels as the nature of the path would permit.
Norah found it not very pleasant. The Hermit went at a good rate, swinging over the rough ground with the sure-footed case of one accustomed to the scrub and familiar with the path. The boys unhampered by skirts and long hair, found no great difficulty in keeping up with him, but the small maiden of the party, handicapped by her clothes, to say nothing of being youngest of them all, plodded along in the rear, catching on sarsaparilla vines and raspberry tangles, plunging head first through masses of dogwood, and getting decidedly the worst of the journey.
Harry was the first to notice that Norah was falling “into the distance,” as he put it, and he ran back to her immediately.
“Poor old kid!” he said shamefacedly. “I’d no idea you were having such a beast of a time. Sorry, Norah!” His polite regrets were cut short by Norah’s catching her foot in a creeper and falling bodily upon him.