CHAPTER FOUR
The tropical storm went on. The thunder crashed and the lightningflashed and the rain poured down in torrents. Barty had never heardsuch a noise in his life, but inside the cave everything was dry andwarm and comfortable. The floor was covered with fine white sparklingsand, like a wonderful new kind of carpet. The walls and roof weremade of white rock which sparkled also. The Good Wolf sat down on thewhite sand floor and smiled cheerfully. Barty sat down, too, and theblack monkey sat down at the same time, because he was still perchedon Barty's shoulder. He seemed an affectionate monkey, for he put onefunny arm round the little boy's neck and leaned a black cheek againsthis curly hair.
"Come down and sit on my knee," Barty said to him, "I want to look atyou. I never had a monkey for a friend in all my life before."
The black monkey jumped down on to his knee as if he had learned boys'language in his cradle. He could only chatter monkey chatter himself,but it was quite plain that he understood Barty. He _was_ funny whenhe sat down and folded his tiny hands before him, as if he werewaiting to hear what was going to be said to him.
"He has such nice eyes," said Barty. "I believe he is asking me totell him to do something."
"Yes, that's what he wants," replied the Good Wolf. "That is what hecame for. I knew he was coming. That was why I asked you if you hadseen something black."
"Was it?" said Barty. "You know all about this desert island, don'tyou?"
"Yes," the Good Wolf answered. "Every single thing," and he said itwith such a peculiar smile that Barty knew there was some secret inhis mind and he wondered what it was, but he did not ask because hefelt sure that the Good Wolf would tell him some time.
The black monkey was looking at him so eagerly and with such a funnyexpression that Barty could not help laughing.
"His face is so tiny and wrinkled that he looks like a baby a hundredyears old--only babies never are a hundred years old," he said. "Willyou stay with me?" he asked the monkey. "If I were really RobinsonCrusoe and you were bigger you might be my Man Friday."
"Chat-chat--chattery-chatterdy-chatterdy," replied the little blackcreature, getting so excited that he quite jumped up and down as if hecould not keep still. He chattered so hard and his chatter sounded somuch as if he were talking that it made Barty laugh more than ever andput a queer new thought into his head.
"It seems as if he were trying to say Saturday," he cried out."Perhaps he is saying it in monkey language. I'm going to call himthat. If he isn't a Man Friday he can be a Man Saturday." And ManSaturday seemed so pleased and the Good Wolf thought it such a goodidea, that Barty was delighted and hugged his new little black friendquite tight in his arms.
"Things get nicer and nicer," he chuckled. "I wouldn't have missedcoming to this desert island for anything."
Tropical storms come very quickly and go very quickly. Suddenly thisone seemed to end all at once. The thunder stopped and the lightningstopped and the rain was over and the huge black cloud disappeared andout came the blazing sun looking as if it were pretending that it hadnever been hidden at all.
Barty and the Good Wolf went to look out through the big hole in thewall of the cave which was like a window. Everything was sparklingand blue and green and splendid again.
The sea, and the sky, and the grass, and the trees all looked sobeautiful that Barty stood and gazed out of the window for about fiveminutes, forgetting everything else. Then suddenly he turned andlooked around the cave.
"Where is Saturday?" he cried out.
The Good Wolf turned and looked about too, and after he had done it heshook his ears in a mystified way.
"I don't see him anywhere," he said. "He is not in that corner and heis not in _that_ one, and he is not in that one, and he is not in the_other_ one. If he were in the middle we should see him, of course."
"I am sure he wouldn't run away," said Barty. "I feel quite sure hewouldn't. He had such a nice look in his eyes and I know he took mefor his friend. And I took him for mine. When people are friends theydon't run away."
"Oh no," answered the Good Wolf. "Certainly not. Let us walk slowlyall round the cave and look very carefully. This cave is a queer shapeand it may have corners we can't see just at first."
So they walked round side by side and looked very carefully indeed.Once they walked round, twice they walked round, three times theywalked round, and then they stopped and looked at each other. The GoodWolf sat down and scratched his ear with his hind foot in a verycareful manner, and Barty put his hands in his pockets and whistled alittle, quite thoughtfully. But almost the very next minute he cheeredup and his face beamed all over.
"Why," he exclaimed, "you see, if he is my Man Saturday, he has thingsto do for me! I've not lived on a desert island long enough to knowwhat they are, but I daresay they are very important. I believe he hasgone to do something for me which he knows is his duty."
The Good Wolf stopped scratching his ear with his hind foot and becameas cheerful as Barty.
"_Of course!_" he exclaimed emphatically. "You are a very clever boyto think of that. You always think of the right things at the righttime, instead of thinking of the right things at the wrong time or thewrong things at the right time, which is very confusing."
"Shall we go outside and see if he is anywhere about?" said Barty.
"That is a good idea, too," responded the Good Wolf. "You are full ofgood ideas, and they are the most useful things a person can have on adesert island."
They walked down the cave--it was rather a long cave--towards thenarrow passage which led from the hole outside to which Saturday hadled Barty. As they came to the entrance to it they both drew back tolook at something very queer which was coming towards them through thepassage itself. It certainly was the queerest thing Barty had everbeheld since he had been a boy, and the Good Wolf himself looked as ifit seemed a queer thing even to him. It would have seemed queer toyou, too. What it really was Barty could not possibly have told, butwhat it _looked_ like was a bundle of dried leaves bound together bylong grass and _walking_ over the ground by itself as if it werealive.
"It _is_ walking, isn't it?" asked Barty, too much astonished to besure his eyes did not deceive him.
"It certainly is," the Good Wolf replied, "there is no mistake aboutthat, and though I am Noah's Ark Wolf and have lived for ages andages, I have never seen a bundle of dry leaves walk before. It is veryinteresting, indeed." He actually sat down to watch it and Bartyleaned forward with his hands on his knees and gazed with all hismight. On it came. It did not walk fast at all, but rather slowly asif it found it rather hard to get along--which seemed very natural,because no bundle of dried leaves could have had much practice inwalking.
Barty leaned forward with his hands on his knees and gazed with all his might.]
It walked past them and it walked the full length of the cave untilit reached the corner nearest the window.
"It's stopping," called out Barty, and the next minute he called outagain: "It's lying down."
It did lie down, almost as if it were tired, but it did not lie stillmore than a minute. It rolled over on its side and lay there, andthere was a scuffling and a couple of black legs were to be seenkicking themselves loose, and a pair of black arms twisting themselvesfrom under it, and a little black wrinkled face and head with cunning,bright eyes pushed themselves out, and the minute Barty saw them heshouted aloud with glee:
"Saturday! Saturday! Saturday!" he cried out. "It was Man Saturday allthe time. He was carrying the bundle of leaves himself and it was sobig and he was so little and the leaves hung down so that we didn'tsee him."
Man Saturday came running across to his little master. It was plain tobe seen that he was so pleased about something that he did not knowwhat to do. He caught hold of Barty's hand and chatterdy-chattered athim and tried to pull him towards the corner.
"He wants me to do something," said Barty. "He brought the leaves forsomething. He wants me to find out what they are for."
Man Saturday danced
before him to the corner where the bundle ofleaves lay. He began to pull at the twigs which tied them together,and Barty knelt down and helped him.
"I'm sure they are for something important," he said. "I am going tothink very hard."
He stood up and put his hands in his pockets and he stood astridebecause boys can often think harder when they stand that way. ManSaturday tried to imitate him, but as he hadn't any pockets he put hishands on his hips and held his head on one side while he watched Bartywith his sharp little eyes, all eagerness to see if he would find outwhat he meant. He looked so funny.
"You couldn't _eat_ them however loose your belt was," Barty said,looking at the leaves. "And you couldn't _drink_ them even if you weredreadfully thirsty--and you couldn't _wear_ them even if your clotheswere worn out as Robinson Crusoe's were. Even if you had a needle andthread to stitch them together they would break to pieces because theyare so dry and brittle."
"Yes, they are very dry," remarked the Good Wolf, quietly.
And then all in a minute Barty felt sure he knew.
"If there were enough of them you could lie down on them," he said ingreat excitement. "_That's_ what they are for! Saturday knows wherethere are more of them and they are for a bed." When he said that,Man Saturday gave a squeak of delight and he immediately caught atBarty's hand and began to pull him towards the passage which was theway out of the cave.
"He has got a store of them somewhere," said the Good Wolf, "and it isa place where the rain could not reach it. Let us trot along and see."
Barty and Man Saturday were trotting along already, at least ManSaturday was trotting and Barty was creeping through the passage, andin two minutes he was out on the side of the cliff again and standingupon the ledge outside the cave. It was a very convenient ledge, andyou could walk nearly all round the cliff on it. It was the kind ofledge you would only find on a desert island like Barty's--a reallynice desert island.
Man Saturday led the way, and after a few yards they came to a placewhere some trees and bushes hung over the edge, and beneath them was ahole in the rock, rather like a very little cave, and there were agreat many leaves near the entrance to it. Anyone could see how theyhad got there. They were blown from the trees and bushes, and whenBarty bent down and peeped into the hole he saw that it was full ofleaves which had been blowing in there for years until the tiny caveseemed almost stuffed with them. No rain could reach them and so theywere quite nice and dry.
The hole was too small for Barty to crawl into, but it was more thanlarge enough for Man Saturday, and chattering to Barty as fast as hecould he crawled in and began to put together another bundle. He gotthe twigs from a bush close by and he pushed leaves out to Barty, sothat he might help him.
It was great fun for Barty. He knew he could carry quite a bundle, andso he made a big one and when it was done he carried it back to hiscave and pushed it before him when he crawled through the passage. ManSaturday brought one suited to his own size, because he was determinedto work, too. Then they went back and made more bundles and the GoodWolf carried a big one on his back. In about half an hour the cornerof the cave had a beautiful soft, heaped up, dry leaf bed in it, andBarty was rolling over and jumping and turning somersaults on it, andMan Saturday was jumping about with him. The leaves were piled so highand were so springy to jump on that it was like dancing in a haystack, but rather nicer.
"Now," said Barty, stopping a minute to take breath after turning sixsomersaults on end, "we have a beautiful bath and we have a house andwe have a bed and we have a Man Saturday--and we found something toeat when we looked, and I believe we shall find something more whenwe look again. I think just now I will lie down and have a sleep.Running very hard in storms does make you sleepy."
"That's a good idea, too," answered the Good Wolf. "I believe I shouldlike to curl up and get a few thousand winks myself. Forty wouldn't beenough."
And he did curl up at the bottom of Barty's big bed of leaves, andalmost before he had time to do it Barty had curled up, too, like asquirrel in a nest, and he was fast asleep--and so was little ManSaturday, who curled up close beside him.
CHAPTER FIVE