Something glittered in the middle of this tiny
island, and the Glass Cat paused on the bank and said:
"There is the gold flower-pot containing the Magic Flower,
which is very curious and beautiful. If you can get to the island,
your task is ended--except to carry the thing home with you."
Cap'n Bill looked at the broad expanse of water and began to
whistle a low, quavering tune. Trot knew that the whistle meant
that Cap'n Bill was thinking, and the old sailor didn't look at
the island as much as he looked at the trees upon the bank where
they stood. Presently he took from the big pocket of his coat an
axe-blade, wound in an old cloth to keep the sharp edge from
cutting his clothing. Then, with a large pocket knife, he cut a
small limb from a tree and whittled it into a handle for his axe.
"Sit down, Trot," he advised the girl, as he worked. "I've got
quite a job ahead of me now, for I've got to build us a raft."
"What do we need a raft for, Cap'n?"
"Why, to take us to the island. We can't walk under water, in
the river bed, as the Glass Cat did, so we must float atop the water.
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