CHAPTER TWO
As Barty and the Wolf walked along together they talked about RobinsonCrusoe in the book.
"His ship was wrecked on the rocks and broken all to pieces," saidBarty. "But _we_ did not come in a ship, did we?"
"No," answered the Wolf.
"And barrels and boxes full of biscuits and things floated about inthe water and he swam after them. It would be rather nice to see a boxof biscuits now, wouldn't it?" Barty said.
"Is your belt very loose?" asked the Good Wolf.
"It never was as loose as this before," said Barty.
"Buckle it a little tighter," said the Good Wolf. So Barty buckled itone hole tighter.
They walked along the shore till they came to a place where they couldbegin to climb the green cliff. Then they climbed and climbed andclimbed and the grass grew greener and thicker and there were flowersgrowing on every side and bushes with birds singing on them, and thebirds were all sorts of lovely colors. Some of them stopped singingjust to look at Barty.
"They have never seen any boys before," remarked the Good Wolf.
"Do you think they like them?" asked Barty.
"You ought to go and see," the Good Wolf answered.
On one of the nearest bushes a bird was sitting which was prettierthan all the rest. It had a white body and breast and soft blue wingsand crest. Barty crept towards it with gentle little steps. He hopedvery much that he would not frighten it. It did not look frightened.It put its head on one side and watched him. Then Barty took hiswhistle out of his pocket and softly played the tune the Good Wolf hadtaught him. The bird put his head on the other side and listened as ifhe were pleased. He was very attentive until Barty had finished andthen suddenly he flew up in the air and fluttered 'round and 'roundabout, singing the tune himself.
"He is answering me!" cried out Barty, joyfully. "He learned the tunein a minute."
"He is a clever bird," said the Good Wolf. "Perhaps he knows a wholelot of things."
"I believe he likes me," said Barty. "I believe he does."
"All birds know a good thing when they see it," was what the Good Wolfsaid with his wisest air. "All animals do. I am an animal myself. Younever threw a stone at a bird, did you, by the way?"
Barty stood quite still and looked at the ground, thinking very hard.
"I never threw a stone at anything," he said when he looked up.
"Ah," said the Good Wolf. "Such a _good_ plan that: Never to throw astone at anything. In fact it's a good plan never to throw _anything_at _anything_. I shouldn't be surprised if you find your Desert Islandever so much nicer just because you're like that. Animals know, I tellyou. So do fairies. Look at the bird!" Barty was looking at it. Itflew a few yards ahead of him and perched on a slender young tree,making funny little chirping noises.
"It sounds--" said Barty, "why, it sounds as if it were saying 'Trotalong, trot along,' just as you did when we went to the Snow Feast."
"I did not see it at the Snow Feast," the Good Wolf said. "But perhapsit had a relation there. If it says 'trot along,' let us trot. Perhapsit is clever enough to notice how loose your belt is, and it thinks itcan show us something to eat which will make it tighter."
So Barty trotted along and the Good Wolf trotted with him. The birdwith the blue crest flew before them and Barty was quite sure it wasshowing them the way somewhere, because every now and then it stoppedand perched on a bough and sang its little song. They went up the hilland up and up until they came to a place where they suddenly foundthemselves on the edge of a green hollow, and the minute they saw itthe Good Wolf cried out, "_There's_ something we want," and trotteddown as fast as he could to a big, clear pool which lay at the bottomof the hollow, and began to lap quickly.
"I want it, too," shouted Barty, and ran down the green slope himself.
He was just going to kneel down when he saw his bird fluttering aboutunder a tall tree, and when he looked up he saw the tree was a veryfunny one. It was like a palm tree but it had great balls hanging fromit and something queer was going on high up among the branches. Theleaves were shaking as if things were moving about among them, andBarty was rather startled because he heard chattering, squeakinglittle voices. The sounds were so funny that for a minute he forgotthat he was thirsty.
"That isn't birds," he said to the Good Wolf. "It isn't singing and itisn't chirping. What do you think it is?"
"Just watch a minute and you will see," the Good Wolf answered. Bartydid not get up from his knees but he threw his curly head back andlooked with all his might. What do you suppose he saw? First onelittle tiny black face with sharp eyes and sharp white teeth and awrinkled nose, and then another little tiny funny black face withsharp eyes and sharp white teeth and a wrinkled nose, and thenanother, and then another. They peeped at him from under the leaves,and from over the leaves and round the big balls which hung from thebranches. They gibbered and chattered and squeaked, and squeaked andgibbered and chattered. Barty's eyes got bigger and bigger and beganto sparkle, and suddenly he jumped up and clapped his hands.
"They're monkeys!" he shouted. "They are little jet black monkeys,just like the ones that played in the land of the Snow Feast. Horray!Horray! Horray! Perhaps they are the very ones."
He put his hands up to his mouth and made a trumpet of them andshouted through it to the top of the tree. It was such a very talltree and there were so many monkeys in it and they were making such anoise that they never could have heard him if he hadn't shouted.
"Hello!" he called, "were you the ones at the Snow Feast?"]
"Hello!" he called. "Were you the ones at the Snow Feast? Did you playin the band?" There was such a lot of chattering and squeaking at thisthat Barty thought it must mean "yes." There was rustling and jumpingand scuffling, and suddenly a tiny black arm and hand darted out andplucked off one of the big hanging balls and threw it down to theearth. It bounded and bounded and rolled, and Barty ran after it andcaught it just as it was going to roll into the pool of water.
"What is it?" he cried out. "What can it be?"
"It is something that will make your belt tighter," chuckled the GoodWolf. "It is another thing we wanted. It's a big fresh cocoanut."
He gave a jump as he said it and so did Barty. "There comes another,"he called out, "and another and another." They had to keep jumpingabout because the jet-black monkeys were throwing the big nuts downas fast as they could.
"They know we are hungry," said Barty.
When the monkeys stopped throwing they settled themselves on thebranches and watched with their little bright eyes twinkling as ifthey were delighted. They evidently wanted to see what Barty would do.
The Good Wolf soon showed him what to do. He found a flat rock by theedge of the pool and laid the big nut on it and then looked for astone heavy enough to break it open. When it was broken open Bartyfelt sure nothing had ever looked so nice before. He had never knownwhat a fresh young cocoanut was like. It was soft and creamy and rich,like some new kind of wonderful breakfast food.
Barty took a piece of the cocoanut shell and used it for a spoon. Hesat comfortably on the grass and made quite a good breakfast. The blueand white bird watched him and the jet-black monkeys watched him, andthe Good Wolf watched him.
Presently the blue and white bird flew down from the twig she wassitting on and began to peck very hard at some green leaves growingamong the grass. She was so busy that the Good Wolf stopped watchingBarty and began to watch her.
"That is a very clever bird," he said in a few minutes. "I believe sheknows more about desert islands than people who have been to schoolfor ten years." Barty stopped his cocoanut shell spoon halfway to hismouth.
"I believe she is trying to dig up something," he said.
"Claws are stronger than beaks," said the Good Wolf. "I will go andhelp her." He went to the place where the green leaves grew, and theminute he came near her the blue and white bird hopped out of his wayand hopped on to the nearest bush and sang the little whistling songshe had learned from
Barty. It sounded so like talking that Bartyalmost shouted with delight.
"She says 'all right,'" he cried out. "That is bird talk."
The Good Wolf had begun to be very busy himself. He was digging veryfast in the earth with his claws. Soon Barty saw he had dug up theroot of the green leaves and it looked like a nice potato. He lookedquite pleased and excited and went on digging and digging until he haddug up six fine roots and then he sat down by them and panteddelightedly, with his nice big red tongue hanging out of his mouth.
"Well," he said, when he found his breath again, "the intelligence ofthat bird is beyond everything. What would you think of a hot roastpotato, when your belt got a little loose again?"
"I should _love_ it," answered Barty. "Sometimes my mother lets meroast a potato for myself, and it is nicer than anything."
The Good Wolf looked down at his six roots and chuckled.
"Blue Crest has shown us something just like potatoes, only nicer.There are plenty of them growing about here. We can always dig themup, and when we have roasted them we can get some of the salt that hasdried on the rocks by the sea to eat them with. What do you think ofthat?"
Barty was too joyful for anything.
"It is _just_ like Robinson Crusoe," he cried out. "Just--just--just!He was _always_ finding things."
"That's the advantage of a Desert Island," answered the Good Wolf."You find everything when you have looked for it long enough to giveyou a beautiful appetite. Nobody could live on desert islands if theywere not like that."
CHAPTER THREE