"How thankful we ought to be that we were not in its direct path!" said Elizabeth. "A little more to right or left and we should have had trees crashing down upon us; we might have all been killed."
"It is a dreadful place," said Tommy, subdued and thoughtful. "Oh, Bess, shall we never be found and taken away?"
"We must hope on, dear. It will never do to get downhearted. While we are all well and strong we need not mind so very much, and a ship is sure to come this way some time or other."
"But it might pass us," said Mary. "I am sure our flag is blown away. Shall we go and see?"
"Hadn't we better fetch our breadfruit first, now we are in this direction?"
"Of course. We shall have to light another fire, too; ours is sure to be out."
They went on, and on arriving at the breadfruit plantation found, as they had expected, that the ground was littered with fruit, which was already being devoured by land-crabs, insects and birds. They picked up several that were in good condition, and retraced their steps towards the shore.
As they were passing through the fringe of woodland, Tommy stopped suddenly, and went down on her knees.
"Oh, do look!" she cried. "Here's a nest on the ground, and the dearest little white parrot you ever saw. Poor little thing! I think it has lost its mother."
The girls stooped to look at it, and Tommy put her hand into the nest. The tiny bird rustled in alarm, opening its beak to let out a plaintive cry; but it was too young to use its wings, and Tommy took it up and held it gently.