She had hardly asked the question when the sound came again—a loud trill. It was followed this time by a musical:
“Who-hoo!”
“I never heard a native make a sound like that,” exclaimed Lucile, springing to her feet.
“Nor I,” said Marian.
“Sounds like a girl.”
Throwing caution to the wind the three of them rushed for the door.
On reaching the deck, they saw, standing on shore, a very short, plump person with a smiling face. Though the face was unmistakably that of a white girl, she was dressed from head to toe in the fur garments of an Eskimo.
“Hello there,” she shouted, “Let down the gang plank. I want to come aboard.”
“Haven’t any,” laughed Florence. “Wait a minute. You climb out on that old tree. We’ll pole the yacht around beneath it, then you can drop down on deck.”
“What a spiffy little cabin,” exclaimed the stranger as she entered the door and prepared to draw her fur parka off over her head. “I wasn’t expecting company. When did you arrive?”