“We ought to wash some sand to see if there’s any gold,” said Mark—“in a cradle, you know.”
“So we did. We ought to have looked in the duck’s gizzard; tiny nuggets get in gizzards sometimes.”
“Everything goes to the river beyond the weeds,” said Mark; “that ought to be written.”
“Does everything go to the river?”
“Everything. While I was fishing I saw them all come back to Serendib from it.”
“We must make haste with the raft.”
“Like lightning,” said Mark.
“Let me see,” said Bevis, leaning his arm on the table and stroking his hair with the end of the penholder. “There are blue gum trees, and palms, and banyans.”
“Reeds—they’re canes.”
“Sedges are papyrus.”