The Blue Lagoon: A Romance

  BOOK II

  PART I

  CHAPTER I

  UNDER THE ARTU TREE

  On the edge of the green sward, between a diamond-chequered artu trunkand the massive bole of a breadfruit, a house had come into being. Itwas not much larger than a big hen-house, but quite sufficient for theneeds of two people in a climate of eternal summer. It was built ofbamboos, and thatched with a double thatch of palmetto leaves, soneatly built, and so well thatched, that one might have fancied it theproduction of several skilled workmen.

  The breadfruit tree was barren of fruit, as these trees sometimes are,whole groves of them ceasing to bear for some mysterious reason onlyknown to Nature. It was green now, but when suffering its yearly changethe great scalloped leaves would take all imaginable tinges of gold andbronze and amber. Beyond the artu was a little clearing, where thechapparel had been carefully removed and taro roots planted.

  Stepping from the house doorway on to the sward you might have fanciedyourself, except for the tropical nature of the foliage, in someEnglish park.

  Looking to the right, the eye became lost in the woods, where all tintsof green were tinging the foliage, and the bushes of the wild cocoa-nutburned scarlet as haw-berries.

  The house had a doorway, but no door. It might have been said to have adouble roof, for the breadfruit foliage above gave good shelter duringthe rains. Inside it was bare enough. Dried, sweet-smelling fernscovered the floor. Two sails, rolled up, lay on either side of thedoorway. There was a rude shelf attached to one of the walls, and onthe shelf some bowls made of cocoa-nut shell. The people to whom theplace belonged evidently did not trouble it much with their presence,using it only at night, and as a refuge from the dew.

  Sitting on the grass by the doorway, sheltered by the breadfruit shade,yet with the hot rays of the afternoon sun just touching her nakedfeet, was a girl. A girl of fifteen or sixteen, naked, except for akilt of gaily-striped material reaching from her waist to her knees.Her long black hair was drawn back from the forehead, and tied behindwith a loop of the elastic vine. A scarlet blossom was stuck behind herright ear, after the fashion of a clerk’s pen. Her face was beautiful,powdered with tiny freckles; especially under the eyes, which were of adeep, tranquil blue-grey. She half sat, half lay on her left side;whilst before her, quite close, strutted up and down on the grass, abird, with blue plumage, coral-red beak, and bright, watchful eyes.

  The girl was Emmeline Lestrange. Just by her elbow stood a little bowlmade from half a cocoa-nut, and filled with some white substance withwhich she was feeding the bird. Dick had found it in the woods twoyears ago, quite small, deserted by its mother, and starving. They hadfed it and tamed it, and it was now one of the family; roosting on theroof at night, and appearing regularly at meal times.

  All at once she held out her hand; the bird flew into the air, lit onher forefinger and balanced itself, sinking its head between itsshoulders, and uttering the sound which formed its entire vocabularyand one means of vocal expression—a sound from which it had derivedits name.

  “Koko,” said Emmeline, “where is Dick?”

  The bird turned his head about, as if he were searching for his master;and the girl lay back lazily on the grass, laughing, and holding him uppoised on her finger, as if he were some enamelled jewel she wished toadmire at a little distance. They made a pretty picture under thecave-like shadow of the breadfruit leaves; and it was difficult tounderstand how this young girl, so perfectly formed, so fullydeveloped, and so beautiful, had evolved from plain little EmmelineLestrange. And the whole thing, as far as the beauty of her wasconcerned, had happened during the last six months.