"Well," replied Miss Price briskly, tying the string bag to the foot of the bed with Paul's dressing-gown cord. "Prevention is better than cure. Better slip the umbrella under the mattress, Charles. And my book, too, please." It was so dark now that they could hardly see each other's faces. There was no moon, and the cedar boughs were but dim shadows against a gray sky.
Carey wondered suddenly whether they ought to have dressed again. She hadn't thought of it, somehow. Now, it seemed too late. The dark room was full of bustle. Paul was waking as Charles heaved at the mattress to stow away the book and umbrella.
"What do you want?" he asked sleepily.
Carey flew to his side. "Put your dressing gown on," she whispered. "It's time to go." "To go where?" asked Paul in his normal voice.
"Shush," whispered Carey. "To the South Sea island. The coral reef, you remember?" "But it's so dark," objected Paul.
"It will be daylight there." She was putting his arms in the sleeves of his dressing gown. "There's a good boy," she praised him. "You've got to say, 'I wish to go to Ueepe.' Here's your net and bucket and spade. I'll take them for you. Kneel up, Paul." Paul knelt up, facing the head of the bed. Miss Price was firmly tucking in the blankets. She laid her broomstick under the eiderdown. Then they all took their places. Miss Price sat next to Paul, and Charles and Carey held on at the foot.
Paul put his hand on the knob. Then he turned round. "It makes me feel sick, when the bed goes," he announced.
"Oh, Paul," whispered Carey. "It's only a minute. You can bear it. Miss Price has a nice picnic in her bag," she added as an inducement. "Go on. Twist." Paul twisted. The bed gave a sickening lurch. The night seemed to turn blue, a blue that glittered like a flying tinsel ribbon, a rushing, shimmering blue turning to gold, to light, to heat-to blinding sunshine. Sand flew stinging past their faces as the bed skidded, then bumped, then stopped. They had arrived.
THE ISLAND OF UEEPE Carey's first thought was that she wished she had brought her hat. The white sand flung back the dazzling glare of the sunlight in such a way that she had to screw up her eyes to see.
The bed had done its best for them. It had set them down on the very tip of a horseshoe-shaped reef. They found themselves on a thin strip of fine white sand held in place by walls of pitted coral. It was almost like being on a ship. In the distance, across a lagoon of dazzling blue sea, they could see the other tip of the horseshoe. In between, a mile or so away, where the front of the horseshoe might be, were trees and low hills.
In among the rocks, which formed the coral walls of their narrow strip of land, were clear pools in which glimmered seaweed of lovely colors, sea anemones, and transparent fish. And the sand was as smooth and fine and white as icing sugar. They had never seen sand like it. There were four great scrapes in it where the bed had come to rest, but beyond that not a footmark, not a ripple.
Charles kicked off his bedroom slippers and let his bare feet sink into the warm crust. It spurted up between his toes. "Gosh," he said happily.
Carey peered over at the lagoon. It was deep and clear. They could see strange fish swimming through the sunlit water. "How lovely!" exclaimed Carey. "How wonderful! Do let's go and explore." Out at sea, between the two points of the horseshoe, great waves rolled up and broke into swirls of spray, spreading their foam into the smooth surface of the lagoon.
Miss Price was unpacking. She took four bottles of ginger-pop out of the string bag and placed them in a pool to keep cool. The rest of the food, the hard-boiled eggs and the sandwiches, she put under the bed in the shade.
"You two big ones can explore," she announced, "but I'm going to sit here in the sun." She retrieved her umbrella, her book, and the broomstick. Then sitting down on the sand, with her back against the bed, she methodically removed her shoes and stockings. Miss Price's feet, Carey noticed, were as pink and knobbly as her hands.
"Can we bathe?" asked Charles.
Miss Price adjusted her sun helmet and put up the umbrella. "If you've brought your bathing suits," she said amiably, opening her book.
"We haven't. We didn't think of it." "Then why ask?" said Miss Price.
Charles and Carey looked at each other. Both had the same thought but neither spoke.
"You can paddle," went on Miss Price, relenting a little. "And explore. I'll take care of Paul." Paul, on the bed, was leaning over Miss Price's shoulder examining her book. " 'Chapter Six,' " he read aloud slowly. " 'Another Man's Wife.' " Miss Price shut the book on her finger.
"And you, Paul," she said rather sharply, "can take your bucket and spade and build sand castles." "I'd like to explore," said Paul.
"No, you stay here and play by me. Jump down, and I'll roll up your pajama legs." In the end it was agreed that Carey and Charles should go off by themselves, each with a bottle of ginger-pop, a hard-boiled egg, and a sandwich, and that they should all meet by the bed at about an hour before sunset. "And don't be late." Miss Price warned them. "There's no twilight on these islands." Carey and Charles raced down the strip of sand toward the mainland. On one side of them lay the still lagoon, on the other the breakers broke on the coral rocks; and as they ran, the children breathed the heady smell of spray. A faint breeze ran up their pajama legs and down their sleeves, an airy coolness on their skin.
"Isn't this gorgeous?" cried Carey, increasing her speed.
"I'll say!" Charles shouted back.
The main beach, when they reached it, was fascinating. They found queer things among the flotsam and jetsam- bits of old spars, a bottle, sharks' eggs. The trees came down almost to the water's edge. A huge turtle scuttled by them into the sea, almost before they realized what it was. There were land crabs among the stones. Under the trees, as they went inland, the ground was smooth, a mixture of earth and sand. They found fallen coconuts and broke them on stones. They nearly went wild with delight when they found their first breadfruit tree. They had read so much about breadfruit.
"I don't think it's a bit like bread," said Charles as he tasted it. "It's more like spongy custard." They found a fresh-water stream, and following it up, through the rocks and creepers, they came to a silent pool. It was a lovely pool, where the roots of trees writhed down into the clear water, and in the middle of it was a smooth and sunlit rock. "For diving," said Charles. They were hot and tired, so, in spite of Miss Price, they threw off their pajamas and bathed.
Once in the water, it was almost impossible to leave it. They dived and swam and sun-bathed. They ate their sandwiches and drank their ginger-pop. It tasted odd after so much coconut milk. Carey's braids had come undone, and her wet hair streaked about her like a mermaid's. They dozed a bit on the rock and talked, and then they swam again.
"This can be our place for always," said Carey. "Our secret island. I never want to go anywhere else." There was no hurry to explore it all. They could come back again and again. They could build a house here, bring books, bring cooking things. . . .