They took to their oars, and rowing with a good will, reached the island some time before noon. The instant the canoe touched the beach Charlie leaped from it, and, rushing into the house, bawled out, “Mother, put on the pot! They’re coming with the birds! O, lashings of them! I’ll make a fire!” and ran for the wood-pile. Charlie crammed the brush under the pot to heat water to scald the birds, that they might pick them the faster.