proper soil, only roots and moss and grass growing through
it. Why, this stick goes down ever such a long way, and there's actually
water coming up!"

The others all came to investigate, and standing close together began to
dig their sticks into the curious heaving surface. It bore their
combined weight for a moment or two, then sinking suddenly, like a
punctured indiarubber ball, it collapsed, and they found themselves
struggling nearly up to their waists in water. Luckily they were able to
clutch at the hazel bushes above, and, by swinging themselves along the
branches, to arrive at a firmer foothold, though even there the ground
felt very insecure and spongy, and little dark pools came oozing up with
every step.

"We must keep as far apart from each other as we can," shouted Ralph;
"the wretched place has no solid foundation, it's only a collection of
sticks and leaves. Cling to the trees, and try to get back to the boat
before you go in any deeper. Don't put your weight on it! It's like
walking on thin ice."

Very wet and muddy, and somewhat frightened, the explorers picked their
way carefully back, treading as much as possible on the roots of the
trees, and never letting go their hold of the boughs. They scrambled
into the boat again with considerable relief, and held a review of
their damaged garments.

"I'm soaked to the skin!" declared Rhoda. "It's a horrible nuisance.
Look at Lindsay!"

"I don't mind my clothes so much, if it weren't so uncomfortable. My
dress will wash," said Lindsay.

"Mine won't though, I'm sorry to say!" groaned Irene.

"I was carrying the cakes, and they're wet through, and not fit to eat,"
announced Leonard.

"The island is a perfect trap," said Meta, trying to squeeze the muddy
water from her own dress and Monica's. "I believe it's nothing but a
kind of raft, made out of all the dead wood and rubbish that have
accumulated in the lake. I expect seeds have blown on to it, and then
trees and bushes have sprung up. Now I think of it, I don't believe it
was in the same place last year, so it must be able to float. We shall
have to go home; we can't stop and picnic when we're drenched like
this."

"I wonder how the hermit managed, if he ever lived there?" said Monica.

"It must have been an excellent penance, with a chance of martyrdom at
the end of it," returned Ralph. "Well, I must say we have given our
visitors a pleasant afternoon! They won't want to take this as a
specimen o