They stood listening for a while, wondering whether Mary's exclamation had attracted the attention of some inhabitant. But, reassured by the absence of any sign of danger, they hastened to inspect the trees upon which Mary had lighted. Elizabeth noticed that Tommy, who would have died rather than apologize, had slipped her hand into Mary's in token of regret for her sharp speech.
They found themselves in the midst of a little grove of trees, about the size of small oaks, but with much sparser foliage. Peeping out from among the long, indented leaves were several large round fruits with a crinkly rind.
"I know they are breadfruit," said Mary gleefully. "Don't you remember the pictures in that book of Captain Cook's voyages?"
"Let's peel one and see how it tastes," said Tommy.
"You wouldn't like it better than raw dough," said Mary. "It has to be cooked first."
"Bother! You know I don't like cooked fruit. It isn't a fruit at all if you can't eat it raw; it's a vegetable."
Elizabeth smiled at this ingenuous distinction.
"Let us take one each and go and try them," she suggested. "If they are really anything like bread we shall enjoy them, I know."
Laden with the fruits, they returned to their camp.
"Pity the place is so far from home," said Mary. "We must have come more than a mile, I should think."