earshot of the cook, who still sat
gazing about her with a happy, dreamy, vacant smile.

'Look here,' said Cyril, 'we must roll the carpet up and hide it, so
that we can get at it at any moment. The Lamb can be getting rid of
his whooping-cough all the morning, and we can look about; and if the
savages on this island are cannibals, we'll hook it, and take her back.
And if not, we'll LEAVE HER HERE.'

'Is that being kind to servants and animals, like the clergyman said?'
asked Jane.

'Nor she isn't kind,' retorted Cyril.

'Well--anyway,' said Anthea, 'the safest thing is to leave the carpet
there with her sitting on it. Perhaps it'll be a lesson to her, and
anyway, if she thinks it's a dream it won't matter what she says when
she gets home.'

So the extra coats and hats and mufflers were piled on the carpet. Cyril
shouldered the well and happy Lamb, the Phoenix perched on Robert's
wrist, and 'the party of explorers prepared to enter the interior'.

The grassy slope was smooth, but under the trees there were tangled
creepers with bright, strange-shaped flowers, and it was not easy to
walk.

'We ought to have an explorer's axe,' said Robert. 'I shall ask father
to give me one for Christmas.'

There were curtains of creepers with scented blossoms hanging from the
trees, and brilliant birds darted about quite close to their faces.

'Now, tell me honestly,' said the Phoenix, 'are there any birds here
handsomer than I am? Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings--I'm a
modest bird, I hope.'

'Not one of them,' said Robert, with conviction, 'is a patch upon you!'

'I was never a vain bird,' said the Phoenix, 'but I own that you confirm
my own impression. I will take a flight.' It circled in the air for a
moment, and, returning to Robert's wrist, went on, 'There is a path to
the left.'

And there was. So now the children went on through the wood more quickly
and comfortably, the girls picking flowers and the Lamb inviting
the 'pretty dickies' to observe that he himself was a 'little white
real-water-wet duck!'

And all this time he hadn't whooping-coughed once.

The path turned and twisted, and, always threading their way amid a
tangle of flowers, the children suddenly passed a corner and found
themselves in a forest clearing, where there were a lot of pointed
huts--the huts, as they knew at once, of SAVAGES.

The boldest heart beat more quickly. Suppose they WERE cannibals. It was
a long way back to the carpe