Pointing the bustle section toward the ground, Muriel held her full black skirt in her widespread hands. “Put as much fruit as you can in my skirt. You’re going to carry it back to our camp.”
“Aha, haha. A man’s job.”
“My skirt. That’s the price of my nakedness—you carrying the fruit back.”
Muriel stood by one tree after another as Glen stripped them bare of fruit. Her skirt held, but Muriel’s arms tired. Finally, she said, “Glen, I can’t hold any more. I’ll place it on the ground, and we’ll keep adding to the bounty.”
“I think we have enough, Muriel. Pick up my spear.” Glen bent his knees and gathered her black bustle skirt up. “This is heavy.”
“We are getting rather good at building our food supplies. Coconut. Now fruit.”
“Next, I’ll catch some fish for us using my new spear.”
They headed back to camp, making little notes about the area.
“The cove!” Muriel shouted. “It’s beautiful, Glen. So beautiful. We should stay here.”
“Can’t, Muriel.