he fires.

"Now," he said, "if you'll see to these for me, I'll go and get the kettle
and crockery."

At the far end of the glade was a clump of bamboos. Dermot selected the
biggest stem and hacked it down with his _kukri_. From the thicker end he
cut off a length from immediately below a knot to about a foot above it,
trimmed the edges and brought it to Noreen. It made a beautifully clean and
polished pot, pale green outside, white within.

"There is your kettle and tea-pot," he said.

From a thinner part he cut off similarly two smaller vessels to serve as
cups.

"Now then for the water to fill the kettle," he said, looking around among
the creepers festooning the trees for the _pani bel_. When he found the
plant he sought, he cut off a length and brought it to the girl, who had
never heard of it. Asking her to hold the bamboo pot he filled it with
water from the creeper, much to her astonishment.

"How wonderful!" she cried. "Is it really good to drink?"

"Perfectly."

"But how are you going to boil it?"

"In that bamboo pot."

"But surely that will burn?"

"No, the water will boil long before the green wood begins to be charred,"
replied Dermot, placing the pot over the first fire on the two lumps of
clay, so that the flames could reach it.

Then he opened the linen bag, which Noreen found to contain _atta_, or
native flour. Some of this he poured into the round aluminium dish and with
water from the _pani bel_ he mixed dough, rolled it into balls, and patted
them into small flat cakes. Over the second fire he placed the iron plate,
convex side up, and when it grew hot put the cakes on it.

"How clever of you! You are making _chupatis_ like the natives do,"
exclaimed Noreen. "I love them. I get the cook to give them to us for tea
often."

She watched him with interest and amusement, as he turned the cakes over
with a dexterous flip when one side browned; then, when they were done, he
took them off and piled them on a large leaf.

"Who would ever imagine that you could cook?" Noreen said, laughing. "Do
let me help. I feel so lazy."

"Very well. Look after the _chupatis_ while I get the fowl ready," he
replied.

He cleaned the jungle cock, wrapped it up in a coating of wet clay and laid
it in the hot ashes of the third fire, covering it over with the red
embers.

Just as he had finished the girl cried: "The water is actually boiling? Who
would have believed it possible?"

"Now we are going to