Friday, 18 June 2010

Misplaced 3, part 4.

  Ruth laughed for the first time in days when she got back to camp and saw what Ernest and Patrick had been doing.  They had collected lots of berries that had been crushed during the storm or were a bit battered, and had crushed the berries with a rock in a container.  Ruth looked in at the mess of juice and skins.   "You're not trying to make wine, are you?" she asked, amused. 
 
   "Well, yes," Ernest said.   

   "But doesn't that take weeks- months?" she asked. 
 
   "No harm in trying," Ernest replied. 
 
   "How's the tea going?" she asked Patrick. He picked up a cup and offered it to her.  Warily she tasted it.  It wasn't quite like tea, but it was pleasant.  After days drinking only water, it was a welcome relief. 
   "That's not bad," she said.  "Well done!"

   That evening, as they sat round the fire at dusk, people seemed to be more cheerful than they had since arriving on the island.  Over the fire the fruit of Alex's trapping was roasting, and a collection of the best edible roots were cooking in the embers.  A pot of Patrick's tea was brewing.  

   The storm had torn down some of the trees between the campsite and the beach, so now they could see right through to where the sun was going down into the sea, turning the water golden.  Well, more orange, Ruth thought.  About the same colour as Patrick's shirt.  

   He was still there, sitting quietly and not joining in much with the general chat, but looking reasonably happy, Ruth thought, if still tired and not exactly well.  

   She was more worried about him and Charlotte, the other vegetarian, than the rest of them.  As long as there were animals and fruit-bearing plants on the island, and fish and crabs in the ocean, they shouldn't have too much of a problem finding food.  But the vegetarians would have to survive on fruit and roots alone, and they didn't contain all the nutrients like protein or fat they would need if they were here a long time.  There was no way of getting dairy products.  Ruth wondered if there were any trees on the island that produced nuts- or was it the wrong time of year?  Did coconuts count?  But then Patrick didn't like them.  So he could have had no protein since the crash.  She was sure she had seen Charlotte eating and drinking from coconuts, no wonder she seemed in better shape.

   She tried to put her worries aside.  She couldn't force him to do anything.  And there was no point letting it stop her enjoying the evening.

   On the other side of the fire Amy and Sophie were constructing something with sticks tied together with vine-like plants.  Rachel asked them what they were making.

   "It's raft," Sophie said.  She went down to the bank of the stream and placed it carefully in the water.  

   "It floats!" she squealed.

   "What's it for?" Rachel asked.

   "It's a model," Sophie explained.  "Now we know how to make one, we can make a bigger one that we can go on."  Ruth saw the look on Amy's face which suggested that she thought this might not be as easy as Sophie obviously thought.  

   "It looks a bit wobbly," Rachel said.  The little raft had got stuck by a rock.  Sophie carefully freed it and it travelled perhaps a metre further before one corner got snagged again and it sank.  

   "Oh," Sophie mourned, looking very downcast.  

   "Perhaps it needs a bit more work," Ruth said.

   "It's not a bad idea though, making a raft," Nick said.  "It might be useful for fishing."

   "Couldn't we use it to get away from here?" Sophie said.

   "That's probably not a good idea," he replied.  "For a start we don't know where we are, or how far it is till we reach land, or even another island.  And if people are looking for us we're better off staying where we are in case we miss them.  Anyway, we'd need a huge raft to get us all on, as well as all the food and water we'd need for the journey."

   "We could have lots of little ones," Sophie protested.  

   "Then we might get separated," Nick said.  "And what if there was a storm while we were at sea?  We wouldn't stand a chance."

   "Having one to use just near the shore might be quite handy, though," Jack said.  "And it shouldn't be too hard to build really..." The techies started one of their technical conversations.  Soon they were drawing on a flat rock with a charred stick from the fire.  Ruth sighed and smiled.  Well, it kept them happy.  The discussion continued until Emma and Becky called from the fire to say that the food was ready.

   The meat wasn't the nicest she'd ever eaten, certainly not as good as the crabs, but it was quite edible.  Alex had made a kind of sauce out of some leaves he said were herbs to go with it, which improved the taste considerably.  Ruth had a feeling there might be some kind of fungi in it too.

   Everyone was very cheerful that evening.  There was a lot of singing, something which hadn't happened since the crash.  Tom even attempted to construct a guitar from a piece of hollow log and some string.  It wasn't exactly tuneful, but it was amusing.  The atmosphere did a lot to cheer Ruth up.  This was more like the G&S society she knew.  They were singers, and when they were singing they were the people she knew- music really did improve people's mood.

   She yawned, feeling suddenly sleepy.  Several of the others had already fallen asleep, sprawled out on the ground or curled up by the fire.  Emma and Ernest had fallen asleep in each other's arms.  Ruth thought blurrily that she had never seen a cuter sight, as she made herself comfortable with her head on a rock.


The story continues...

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