. But also we must hoist a flag, a signal of distress. For
should a ship come by, they might stop and rescue us."

"But we have no flag. What can we use for one?"

"Give me your daughter's petticoat," said the Captain to Kitty.

"Not so!" said Kitty, who was fond of dramatic phrases. "Arabella's
petticoat is spandy clean, and I won't have it used to make a flag."

"I'll give you a flag," said Marjorie. "Take my hair-ribbon." She began
to pull off her red ribbon, but Kingdon stopped her.

"No," he said, "that won't do. We're not playing Pirates. It must be a
white flag. It's for a signal of distress."

Marjorie thought a moment. There really seemed to be no white flag
available.

"All right!" she cried, in a moment. "I'll give you a piece of my
petticoat. It's an old one, and the ruffle is torn anyhow."

In a flash, impetuous Marjorie had torn a good-sized bit out of her
little white petticoat, and the Captain fastened it to a long branch he
had broken from the maple tree.

This he managed, with the aid of some stones, to fasten in an upright
position, and then they sat down to watch for a passing sail.

"Buffaro Bill so s'eepy," announced that small person, and, with fat old
Boffin for a pillow, Rosy Posy calmly dropped off into a morning nap.

But the others suffered various dreadful vicissitudes. They were
attacked by wild beasts, which, though entirely imaginary, required
almost as much killing as if they had been real.

Kitty shot or lassoed a great many, but she declined to engage in the
hand-to-hand encounters with tigers and wolves, such as Marjorie and
Kingdon undertook, for fear she'd be thrown down on the ground. And,
indeed, her fears were well founded, for the valiant fighters were often
thrown by their fierce adversaries, and rolled over and over, only to
pick themselves up and renew the fray.

More exciting still was an attack from the natives of the island. They
were horrible savages, with tomahawks, and they approached with
blood-curdling yells.

Needless to say that, after a fearful battle, the natives were all slain
or put to rout, and the conquerors, exhausted but triumphant, sat round
their camp-fire and boasted of their valorous deeds.

As noontime drew near, the settlers on the island began to grow hungry
again, and, strange to say, the imaginary birds they shot and ate were
not entirely satisfying.

Buffalo Bill, too, waked up, and demanded a jink of water.

But none could leav