Читать книгу Secret Water - Arthur Ransome - Страница 6

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“You can see it’s an island now,” said Titty. “Look at all that water behind it. And, I say, Daddy’s blank map’s wrong. That lump isn’t a peninsula. It’s another little island.”

“Rum islands, aren’t they?” said Roger. “No rocks.”

“They’re landing,” cried Bridget.

John was rowing Daddy and Mummy ashore. They were close to a sort of gap in the green bank, where the tops of some piles showed above the water. Daddy was pointing. John looking over his shoulder and took a stroke or two. The Wizard grounded. Daddy had taken an oar from John and was prodding over the side. He was feeling for foothold. He was stepping out into the water.

“Daddy’s landed,” said Bridget.

They saw him pull the boat a little further up. Mother was getting out, then John, carrying the anchor. They saw all three, splashing a little, lifting their feet high and putting them down carefully, walking one behind the other, as if in a narrow path, towards the dyke. They were on the dyke, clear against the sky. They had stopped by a row of bushes and small trees. Daddy was pointing this way and that. John was stamping about, as if trying the hardness of the ground.

“Come on, the Able Seamen,” said Susan. “All hands to untying those knots. They’ll be wanting those groundsheets off the cabin roof first of all.”

“Daddy and Mother have gone,” said Bridget. “John’s coming back. No he isn’t. He’s taking the mast and sail out of the Wizard. He’s carrying them ashore. He nearly fell down. He’s going to fall down. No he isn’t ... I say, can’t I go ashore and help?”

“You can’t till he comes back,” said Susan.

“Why’s he taking the mast and sail out?” said Roger.

“To make room for the stores, of course,” said Susan.

Presently they saw John back at the Wizard, sitting on the gunwale and washing his boots in the water. Then he came rowing off to the Goblin.

“Groundsheets first,” he said as he came near. “You’ll have to get them unlashed.”

“They’re all ready,” said Susan.

“Well done. Can you heave them down?”

“Have you got a good place for the camp?” asked Titty.

“Gorgeous,” said John. “But it’s going to be an awful job getting the things ashore without covering them with mud.”

“Hadn’t you better wash your hands?” said Susan.

“I’ve gone it once already,” said John, but glancing down at his hands he dipped them again over the side of the dinghy.

“He can do his face afterwards,” said Roger.

“You shut up,” said John. “Just wait till you’ve tried it. It’s all right once you’re on the dyke, but getting across the saltings the mud splashes up over everything.”

“What are saltings?” asked Titty.

“That’s what Daddy called it ... sort of marshy ground between the creek and the dyke. He says it goes under water at very high tides. Good, Susan. Hang on just a moment. Now let it come....”

The first bundle of groundsheets was lowered into the dinghy. It was followed by another and yet another.

“Can’t we come ashore too?” said Bridget.

“Susan had better,” said John. “To help carry the things up. You can come too.”

“And Sinbad?”

LANDING THE GEAR

“All right. The Able Seamen had better stay in the Goblin to pass the things down. We don’t want to bring more mud aboard than we can help. Come on. Room for a couple of tent-rolls .... Now Susan.”

Susan slipped down into the dinghy.

“Bridget next....”

“Give me Sinbad,” said Susan. “You’ll want both hands.”

“I’ll never manage,” said Bridget looking down from Goblin’s deck into the loaded dinghy.

“You will,” said John. “Sit on the edge ... right at the edge. Now let yourself go.”

Bridget found herself in a heap on the groundsheets.

“I did it all right,” she said and her face which had for a moment been serious broke into a pleased smile.

“Fend off, Susan,” said John, and the Wizard started on her second voyage to the shore.

There was not far to go, but the loaded boat grounded a little further out than she had last time.

“The water’ll be over Bridget’s boots,” said Susan.

“I’ll carry her,” said John. “She’ll have to get on my back.”

“What about Sinbad?” said Bridget. “Can you manage two people at once?”

“I’ll take Sinbad,” said Susan. “You’ll want both arms to hang on to John.”

John, after taking the anchor ashore, came back and, standing in the water stooped with his back to the dinghy till he was almost sitting on the gunwale.

“Up you come, Bridgie,” he said.

Bridget stood on the thwart, let herself fall forward and got John firmly round the neck. John felt behind him and took hold of her legs. He lifted, and choked.

“Don’t throttle him, Bridget,” said Susan.

John gave a good jerk that jolted Bridget higher on his back, and took a step towards the shore. Down went his foot through a patch of soft mud and he all but fell. The next foot was luckier, finding a stone. Step by step he staggered up the path through the saltings till he came to harder ground where he dumped his passenger and took a long breath.

“You must have eaten ten times your share of those sandwiches,” he said.

Susan, taking now a long stride, now a short, now sliding back, now slipping forward, came after them with Sinbad. Then, while Susan and John went back to bring the things up from the boat, Bridget and Sinbad climbed up the dyke, and were presently standing guard over a growing pile, as the Captain and the Mate staggered to and fro across the saltings as fast as the mud and their loads would let them.

Meanwhile, aboard the Goblin, the Able Seamen were busy lugging things up from below and stacking them on the decks and on the cabin roof ready for ferrying ashore. Presently John came back for another cargo, and then again for another.

“I do believe that’s the lot,” said Titty at last.

“Nothing left down below,” said Roger.

“Hop in then,” said John. “But jolly well sit steady, or we’ll have the water over the gunwales.”

The Goblin lay deserted and the last of the explorers landed on the island. The last boatload, with four porters instead of only two, did not take long to carry up across the saltings to the dyke.

The dyke for the most part was narrow, just wide enough for a path along the top of it, but at the place where the explorers had dumped their stores it widened, giving plenty of room for a camp well above the level of the marshes. On the inner side it sloped steeply down to meadowland, with a drain running along the foot of it, and close to the camp there was a small pond. Just here there were a row of little stunted trees and bushes, and beyond them they could see cattle grazing in the distance, and the roof and chimneys of a farmhouse. Looking northward they could see where Goblin Creek opened into the Secret Water, and to the south they could see the creek again, curving round and opening into another inland sea.

“It’s a lovely place for a base camp,” said Titty. “And luckily the native kraal’s a good long way off.”

“What’s in this box?” said Roger. “Can I start unpacking?”

“Not yet,” said John. “All hands to pitching tents. Let’s have it looking like a camp before Daddy and Mother come back.”

“Lay the groundsheets first to see how they go,” said Susan. “We can have the little ones facing the creek, but the big one’ll have to go between these two trees. Let’s get that one done first, so that in case Mother comes back too soon she’ll be able to see where Bridget’s going to sleep.”

The big tent was one of the two they had used on their first visit to Wild Cat Island. It had to be slung on a rope between trees, not like the little tents, which had their own poles, and could be pitched anywhere. It was always rather a job to get it up, because of the difficulty of getting the rope high enough and taut enough. With these little trees it was worse than usual, but John and Susan managed it at last, and Bridget found her way inside it even before its walls were properly pegged down. They looked round to see that Roger’s and Titty’s tents were already pitched. Titty was unrolling Susan’s own tent, which, as she was not going to sleep in it, was to be used for a storehouse.

“Where’s Roger?” said Susan.

But just then Roger came running along the dyke.

“I’ve been to the corner to look at the other island,” he said. “Daddy and Mother are in sight, coming from the kraal. They’ll be here in a minute.”

There was frenzied work in the camp. Boxes and knapsacks were bundled out of sight. The last two tents went up in record time. Titty had pulled one of the surveying poles from among the others and was hurriedly fastening Swallow’s flag to it. The moment it was done John drove it into the ground, and Daddy and Mother came back to find all five tents up, and the Swallow flag on a bamboo flagstaff fluttering in the breeze.

“Good work,” said Daddy.

“Everything’s ashore,” said John.

“Not properly stowed,” said Susan. “We’ve pushed things in anyhow, just so that you could see the camp.”

“Good camp, too,” said Daddy. “Well, you’re lucky. There’s a very decent chap at the farm and he says any friend of Jim Brading’s a friend of his, so that’s all right. But he says you mustn’t drink from the pond. Salt water got into it and spoilt it. All right for washing but keep it out of your mouths. I’ll put ashore two full water carriers from the Goblin, and when you want more you’ll have to get it from the well at the farm. I’ll bring them ashore now, and then we’ll have to be starting. The tide’s going down fast.”

“What about your fireplace, Susan?” said Mother, as Daddy hurried down to the landing place.

“There’s a good place on dry ground just below the tents,” said Susan.

“No stones here to build it with,” said Mother.

“Plenty of earth,” said Susan, “and we’ve got a spade.”

“There’s no post on the island,” said Mother, “but you can send messages through the man at the farm. He goes to the mainland nearly every day. And you’ve got Miss Powell’s telephone number.”

“But is there a telephone?” said Roger.

“No there isn’t. Not on the island. But the farmer’ll telephone for you if you want anything, or you can if you go to the mainland yourselves. And we’ve got the number of his dairy in the town, so that we can get a message to you through him. What’s become of Bridget?”

Susan pointed quietly to the big tent. Mother looked into it. Susan had already made up her bed and Bridget’s with rugs and sleeping bags. From the smaller of the sleeping bags came a loud snore.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather sleep comfortably in a bed at Miss Powell’s?” said Mother.

Bridget sat up suddenly. “Oh, Mummy!” she said.

“Oh well,” said Mother. “I suppose you have to grow up some time.”

“Sinbad’s the youngest now,” said Bridget.

Aboard the Goblin, Daddy had already lowered the two big galvanized water carriers into Wizard lying alongside. He was busy at the foot of the mast.

“Look,” said Titty. “He’s hoisting a flag.”

A blue flag with a white square in the middle of it fluttered up to the Goblin’s cross-trees.

“It’s the Blue Peter,” said Mother. “He’s ready to sail.”

In another few minutes Daddy had rowed ashore and brought the water carriers up to the camp.

“Here you are,” he said. “And a good weight too, as you’ll find when you take them to be refilled. You’ll be treating water like liquid gold when you have to carry every drop of it.”

“That’s what Jim said, when we were with him in the Goblin,” laughed Roger.

“Sensible chap,” said Daddy. “Now then, Mary, we’ve got to be off. The heartless skipper and his cruel mate will now sail away leaving their victims on the unknown shore. Come along, Mary. You’re the cruel mate. Good-bye all of you. Use sense. Watch the tides. John and Susan in charge.”

“You will be careful, won’t you?” said Mother, kissing the explorers good-bye.

“You aren’t going away altogether,” said Bridget.

“Sure you wouldn’t like to come too?” said Mother.

Bridget wavered for a moment.

“No thank you,” she said.

Daddy laughed. “Well done, Biddy,” he said.

Mother got very muddy kissing John, who had forgot to rub the splashes off his face.

“John,” she said, “you look like Ben Gunn already.”

BLUE PETER AT THE CROSSTREES

“He’ll have a matted beard by the time we come back,” said Daddy. “Come on John and get some more mud on you putting us aboard.”

John rowed Daddy and Mother back to the ship. For a moment or two he waited, watching Daddy hoist the mainsail. Then, remembering that he was in charge of the expedition, he rowed back and joined the others who were watching by the camp.

Already Mother was at the tiller of the Goblin and Daddy was hauling up the anchor hand over hand. The jib unrolled and filled with wind. Daddy was getting the anchor over the bows and sloshing the mud off with a mop. The Goblin swung round and headed out of the creek.

“Good-bye ... Good-bye....” The marooned explorers shouted from the camp.

“Good-bye and good luck,” an answering call came from the Goblin. The Blue Peter fluttered down. Daddy went aft and took the tiller. Mother waved a handkerchief. The Goblin, leaving the shelter of the creek, heeled over and moved faster. She was gone. Only her red sails showed above the long line of the dyke as with the ebb to help her she hurried to the sea.

Everybody felt a sudden emptiness.

“Marooned,” said Titty.

“We’re in for it now,” said John.

“Come on,” said Susan. “We’ve got an awful lot to do.”

“What about unpacking those boxes?” said Roger.

Bridget had taken Sinbad from Titty. For a few minutes she watched the red triangle of Goblin’s mainsail moving above the dyke.

“It’s all right, Sinbad,” she said. “They’ll come back for you.”