"What about exploring the island now?" asked Tom. "I feel just like a good walk!"
"Well, the island may be too small for a good walk!" said Andy. "We'll just see. Ready, you girls?"
They were all ready for their walk. First they climbed the bill and stood on the top, looking to see what they could spy.
From the top of the hill they could see all around their island—and certainly it was not very big—only about a mile and a half long and about a mile wide. They could see the blue water all around it.
But not far off were other islands! They lay in the sea, blue and misty in the distance. But as far, as the children could see, there were no houses or buildings of any kind on them. They seemed as desolate and lonely as their own island. The cries of sea-birds came as they stood on the hill, and big white gulls swooped around them—but except for that sound, and the far-off splash of waves, there was no other sound to be heard. No shout—no hoot of a horn—no drone of an aeroplane. They might be lost in the very middle of the ocean for all they could see or hear!
"I don't believe a single soul lives here on these islands," said Andy, his face rather grave. "Come on—let's go down to this side of the hill. We may as well find out all there is to know."
As they went down the hill and came to the level ground again, Tom stopped in astonishment "Look!" he said. "Potato plants!"
The children looked—and sure enough, growing completely wild around them were plants that looked exactly like potatoes! Andy pulled one up—and there, clinging to the roots, were a dozen or more small white potatoes!
"That's queer!" said Andy, staring round. "At some time or other there must have been people living here—and they grew potatoes. Some have seeded themselves and grown wild. But the thing is—if people lived here—where did they live? They must have lived somewhere!"
"How queer," said Tom, looking all round as if he expected houses to spring from the ground.
And then Jill gave a shout. "I believe I can see the chimney of a house! Look! Where the ground dips down suddenly over there."
The others looked. They saw that the ground did suddenly dip down into a kind of hollow, well protected from the wind—just the place where people might build a house. They tore over the rocky ground to the dip, expecting they hardly knew what.
And what a surprise they got when at last they reached the hollow and looked down into it!
Chapter 6
A Queer Little Home
The four children stood at the top of the steep dip. The hollow ran right down to the sea—and in it was a cluster of small buildings!
But what strange buildings! The roofs were off, the chimneys were gone, all but the one they had seen, the walls were fallen in. and everything looked forlorn and deserted.
"Nothing but ruins!" said Tom, in astonishment. "Whatever happened to make the houses and shed fall to pieces like that?"
"I think I know," said Andy. "A year or two ago there came a great storm to these parts—so great that the people of our village fled inshore for miles, because the sea battered our houses and flooded our street. The storm must have been even worse on these unprotected islands here—and I should think the sea came into this hollow and battered the farm "to bits! Look at that chimney-stack there—all black and broken—that was struck by lightning, I should think."
The four children gazed down at the poor, hollow house and out-buildings. A little farm had once been there—a poor farm maybe, trying to grow a few potatoes in the rocky ground, to keep a few goats or cows, and to take from the sea enough fish to live on.
Now the folk had all gone, unable to battle with the great sea-storms that swept over their farm and destroyed their living.
"This explains the potatoes," said Jill. "That stretch of struggling potato plants must once have been a field."
"Let's go down into the hollow and have a look round," said Andy. So down into the dip they scrambled and wandered round the ruined buildings. Nothing had been left—all the furniture had been taken away, and even the gates and doors removed. Seashore weeds grew up from the floors of the farmhouse.
"A boy must have lived here," said Andy, picking up a broken wooden train from a patch of weeds.
"And here's a broken cup," said Jill, bending over what had once been a rubbish-heap.
They wandered about and at last came to a lirfle wooden shack where perhaps a cow or two had been kept in the winter. For some reason it had escaped being beaten in by the waves, and still stood upright, its one window broken, and its floor covered with a creeping weed.
Andy looked at it carefully. "This wouldn't be a bad place to make into a little house for ourselves," he said. "I was thinking we'd have to try and build one somehow—but this will do if we patch it up a bit. The tent won't be any use at all if the weather breaks up—and also it's going to be a great nuisance to keep taking it down from the signal tree each night for our tent and putting it back again in the mornings."
"Oh yes!" said Tom in delight. "Let's make this our house! That would be fun. Then we could leave the sail flapping for our signal all the time."
They all went into the shack. It was not very large—more like a big bicycle shed, though the roof was higher. A wooden partition divided it into two.
"We'll take that down," said Andy. "It would be better to have one fairly big room than two tiny ones."
"Well, we'd better start work at once, hadn't we?" said Tom eagerly. "We shall have to bring all our things here—and make it a bit home-like. And all those weeds will have to be cleared,"
"Yes—and we'll spread the floor with clean sand," said Jill. "Listen—you boys clear up the weeds for us—and Mary and I will go to that old potato field and find the biggest potatoes we can, and cook them in their jackets for lunch!"
"Good idea," said Tom, feeling hungry at once. "Come on, Andy—let's start and clean up the place now—we can't do much till that's done."
The two boys set to work. They pulled up the creeping weed by handfuls and piled it outside. They got tofts of stiff heather and, using them as brushes, swept the cobwebs from the walls and rough ceiling. Tom broke the remaining glass of the window, gathered the broken bits carefully together and tucked them into the bottom of the old rubbish-heap so that no one could be cut by a splinter.
Andy made a rough fireplace just outside the shack, with stones from the hearth of the ruined farmhouse.
"We can't have the fire inside because this shack has no chimney," he said, "and we'd be choked with the smoke. Anyway, I've made be fireplace out of the wind and we ought to be able to cook all right on it. Mary, you can bake the potatoes there, once the stones get hot. Tom, get some sticks and start a fire."
Mary and Jill peeped inside the shack. It looked clean and tidy now, though very bare. The two girls had pulled plenty of good potatoes from the old, weedy field, and had washed them in the spring water. They would be fine, baked in their jackets—though it was a pity there was no batter left and so salt.
Tom fetched some clean sand from the shore. He had found a very old bucket, which had a hole in the bottom. He put a flat stone over the hole, and then the sand did not trickle out. He carried six pails full of sand to the shack and scattered it over the earth floor. It looked very neat and clean.
"We'll have to get heaps of heather and bracken in for beds again," said Jill, "just as we did for our tent. Won't it be a nice little house! We must bring the little table here, and the stool—and all the cups and things. It will make it seem like home."