The Happy Adventurers | Page 7

roof, an opening for a
door, and three smaller openings for windows. At the door sat Hugh,
waiting for the girls and their bundle. When they came to a standstill
below him he let down a rope.
"Tie the things on and I'll haul them up," he ordered; "and then you two
climb up and give me a hand. Better send Mollie up first, as the ladder
is a bit shaky till you know it, and Prue can hang on to it below."
Mollie noticed then that a narrow green ladder leant up against the
smooth trunk; it looked as if an unwary step would send it flying, and
she put a reluctant foot on the lowest rung. The ground below was hard
and stony, most uninviting for a fall.
"You are quite safe so long as you push and don't pull," Prudence
assured her. "I am holding on here, and the ladder is firmer than it
looks."
Mollie mounted with gingerly tread, but reached the top safely and
crawled into the hut through the little door. She was quickly followed
by Prudence, and the two girls examined the interior with interest.
There was not very much room; two could sit down with comfort, three
would be slightly crowded, and four would be a tight fit but not
impossible.
"You won't be able to lay the carpet with all of us inside," said Mollie,
as she felt the big roll at her back.
"One of you had better stay out," said Hugh. "There are seats all over

the tree."
Mollie put her head out at the door and looked up into the branches.
They were very much forked, and upon every difficult branch Hugh
had nailed steps and made a railing. In some of the forks he had
inserted wooden seats, others he had left to nature. The topmost seat
was almost at the summit of the tree, and behind it was firmly lashed a
flagpole, with a Union Jack hanging limply in the still air, and a lantern
with green and red glass on two of its sides. Near the door of the little
house there hung from a stout branch a curious-looking canvas bag,
broadly tubular in shape, and with a small brass tap at the lower end.
The tree was thickly foliaged, but the leaves were delicate and lacy, and,
though they formed an admirable screen for the climbers, a good view
of the surrounding country was to be obtained between them, and even
through them in some places. Mollie decided to climb to the top and
look about.
"That's our look-out," Hugh explained. "We can see the enemy from
there a long time before the enemy can see us."
"'O Pip', is what we call it," said Mollie. "Who is the enemy?"
"It all depends," Hugh replied evasively. "Now, Prue, look alive."
Mollie was a level-headed climber when she had something reasonably
solid beneath her feet; no one unfamiliar with the vagaries of the green
ladder could be expected to climb it with enthusiasm. She crawled out
of the house by the little door again, found her road to the nearest
staircase, and climbed this way and that among the leafy branches till
she reached the Look-out. There she settled herself comfortably and
examined her surroundings near and far, whilst the other two laid the
carpet and tacked up the blanket, now cut into three strips by Prudence.
"She looks as if she were hemming sheets for missionaries," Mollie
said to herself, as she watched Prudence doing execution on the blanket
with a large pair of scissors. "It would be almost impossible for any girl
to be as good as Prue looks; it's her eyelashes, and the way she does her
hair."

After admiring the well-planned architecture of the tree Mollie turned
her attention to the scenery. At her feet lay the garden with the long,
vine-wreathed house and the red schoolroom at one side. It was a large
garden, stretching far behind the house, and, as Mollie surveyed the
rows of almond trees which outlined its boundaries, she felt some
respect for Grizzel's perseverance. "If she has laid a chain right round
that she knows how to stick to a thing," she thought, as she caught sight
of the little blue figure still sitting amongst the golden dandelions. "It's
a pity she doesn't do something more worth while. She would make a
good Guide." Looking beyond the garden, Mollie could see the town of
Adelaide. It was a white town among green trees, with many slender
spires and pointed steeples piercing the blue sky, many gardens and
meadows, and a silvery streak of river winding across it like a twisted
thread. A semicircle of softly swelling hills enclosed the town upon two
sides, some of them striped