This left Townsend with two companions on the island.

He sat against the trunk of the tree, knees drawn up, philosophically scanning the shore and occasionally giving an expectant glance up the river for smoke signals.

He seemed resigned to a quiet expectancy that he would be summoned to intercede in one quarter or another.

He looked very whimsical and funny.
"I wonder if you have to crank this island or whether it has a self-starter," he drawled in his amusing way.

"If they don't get back by one or so, we'll have to make some root sandwiches.