Читать книгу Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series) - Arthur Ransome - Страница 38

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All this time the skies had smiled on the Swallows and the Amazons. There had been a few hours’ drizzling rain, a few hours of fog and that dark night of sordid burglary and high adventure. But day after day had been dry and clear and, even when there had been clouds, there had also been sunshine and wind to drive their shadows, chasing each other, over the bright heather and bracken of the hills. Now that it was time for the Swallows to go, there came a sudden change of weather to remind them that the summer too was near its end. All that last day there had been the heaviness of thunder in the air. There had been a stormy sunset and, though there had been but little wind, dark, angry clouds had lifted in the south until at night they shut out all the stars.

The storm broke with a sharp crash of thunder that woke the whole camp. With it came a sharp flickering light as bright as day. There was the wild shriek of a parrot, as if it were one of a flock screaming through the palm trees in a tropical hurricane. Then darkness and quiet. Then heavy drops of rain pattering down on the tents.

Titty woke, not comfortably, bit by bit, but with every bit of herself at once. She did not move, except to put out her hand and touch the parrot’s cage. “Susan,” she whispered.

“All right, Titty,” said Susan.

Roger in the captain’s tent sat up with a start and a shout. “He’s firing! He’s going to fire again!” He was back in the battle of Houseboat Bay and his voice died into a breathless “John!” as he woke to find himself in the dark.

“All right, Roger,” said John, “it’s only thunder.”

“Where are you going, Nancy?” said Peggy. At hearing the first drops of rain, Nancy was up and lighting their lantern.

“To bring some firewood in, of course,” said Nancy. “Don’t you remember the last time it rained and all the wood got wet and we couldn’t get our fire to light.”

She was back in a moment with a bundle of sticks from the pile.

“It’s not raining much yet,” she said, “but it’s going to.”

She wriggled back into her sleeping-bag.

There was another flash of lightning that lit the tents and threw leaping shadows on their white walls from the branches of the trees overhead.

“Never mind, Polly,” said Titty, “it’ll soon be over.”

“Pretty Polly,” said the parrot, now thoroughly awake.

One flash followed another and then there were three tremendous crashes of thunder and a lot of little ones as if the sky were breaking into solid bits and rattling down a steep iron roof.

“There’s a broadside for you,” called Nancy Blackett from her tent.

“Pieces of eight,” said the parrot, and then, perhaps thinking of palm trees again, gave a long wild shriek.

“Would you like me to put your cloth over you?” said Titty.

“What time is it, John?” called Susan.

“Four bells of the middle watch,” said Captain John, who had looked at the chronometer with his pocket torch and had just put it into ship’s time for himself.

“What is it in real time?” asked Peggy.

“Two o’clock in the morning,” said Captain John. After all, there were some things these Amazons did not know.

There was a gust of wind and then a heavier pattering of rain on the tents and after that it was as if the rain were coming down in solid lumps of water that splashed and broke on the thin canvas.

“It’s coming through,” said Roger. “I can feel it.”

“Don’t touch the wall of the tent,” said John.

“I’m not, but it’s coming through all the same.”

“It’s coming through our tent too,” said Susan. “Titty, you’d better cover up the parrot.”

“I have, but I don’t believe he likes it.”

There was more lightning and more thunder. The rain stopped for a moment and then poured down again.

“John,” called Susan.

“Yes.”

“Better get into our clothes and then we can keep them dry under the blankets. Have you got your oilies?”

“Yes. Have you?”

“I’ll get them in a minute. I’m lighting our lantern. Spread your oilies over your blankets. Roger too.”

Susan bustled Titty into her clothes and got into her own. Roger and John pulled on their knickerbockers. There was the sound of a squabble in the tent of the Amazons.

“Don’t put your head under, Peggy. Get dressed like the others.”

There was a glare of lightning and a crash of thunder all in one, and after that for a long time the thunder and lightning came so close one after the other that no one knew which flash belonged to which clap of thunder. The camp was full of light and the rolling, crashing thunder overhead made things seem hurried, as if there was something that ought to be done but no time in which to do it. The lanterns were lit but, though they were bright in the short moments of darkness, they seemed to give no light at all in the glare of the lightning flashes.

It was dark again and suddenly quiet. It was as if the storm were holding its breath. Then there was a deep, rushing noise, far away, louder and louder every moment.

“What’s that?” said Titty.

“Wind,” said Susan.

“I say,” said Titty, “this is a storm.”

As she said it the wind reached them.

There was a crash as a heavy branch fell somewhere at the low end of the island. There was a swishing noise as the trees swayed in the wind. Nor was the noise all. The tents of the Swallows were hung on ropes between trees and held down by stones in pockets along the bottom edges of the tent walls. The trees were blown this way and that and the rope now slackened, now tightened up again so hard that in the captain’s tent the stones shifted and rattled in the pockets.

“Hullo, Susan,” called John. “Have you got enough stones to hold your tent down? Our tent’s getting smaller.”

“Ours is all right,” shouted Susan, “the stones haven’t moved yet.”

“What?” shouted John. “I can’t hear.”

“Our stones are all right,” shouted Susan. But she spoke too soon. There was a loud crack. The stones had been heavy enough, but a furious jerk of the trees had snapped the wet taut rope on which her tent was hung. The whole tent flopped down, a mass of wet canvas, burying Susan and Titty and the parrot in its folds, knocking over their candle lantern and putting it out.

From the other tents, they heard the crack, an angry scream from the parrot as its cage fell over, and then muffled shrieks of “Help! Help!”

John and Nancy were out of their tents in a moment. John had his torch, but there was no need to use it, for a long, flickering glare of lightning showed them the grey wet mass of the mate’s tent on the ground with something struggling under it. They lifted the end of the tent where the door had been. Mate Susan and Able-seaman Titty crawled out on all fours, the able-seaman dragging the parrot’s cage, which had lost its blue cloth.

“Come into our tent, quick,” Nancy shouted in the roaring of the wind.

“What about our things?” shouted Susan.

“And Polly’s blue cloak?” shouted Titty.

“Wet anyway. Leave them,” shouted Nancy, and indeed it was the only thing to do.

Shielding the parrot from the wind and rain as best she could, Titty ran into the Amazons’ tent, where she found Peggy, who was very glad to see her. Susan followed.

“We ought to have got our lantern out,” she said. “You’ve only got a stump of a candle left.”

“Do you think the trees are coming down?” said Peggy.

“They’d be down before now if they were coming,” said Susan.

“Poor Polly,” said Titty, but the parrot corrected her. He was smoothing down the feathers that had been fluffed out in the wind.

“Pretty Polly,” he said.

“I don’t believe he minds losing his blue cloak,” said Titty.

“Is your tent going too?” shouted Captain Nancy in the wind.

“I hope not,” said Captain John.

“What?”

“I hope not,” he shouted in her ear.

The wind was blowing across the island in great gusts that shook the little trees like grass. Overhead the tall pine that was the lighthouse creaked and groaned. For a moment or two it was pitch dark, and then the lightning lit up the sky so that everything was as clear as in daylight. With each gust, Captain John’s tent clapped like a loose jib on a ship going about in a squall and there was a rattle of stones.

Roger crawled out into the rain.

“It’s getting smaller and smaller,” he said. “It’s spilling the stones out of the pockets.”

Nancy and John could not hear him, but they could see the tent thrashing about.

Nancy grabbed him by the scruff of the neck as he crawled out and ran him to the Amazons’ tent and pushed him in. “You’ll be dry, anyhow,” she said. Then she went back to Captain John, who had struggled into his flapping tent and brought out the two things that mattered most, the chronometer and the barometer. In one of the lightning flashes he held up the barometer.

“It’s gone down four-tenths,” he shouted.

“Come along into our tent,” shouted Nancy. “Bring the big lantern if you can get it.”

Captain John gave her the barometer and put the chronometer in his pocket. He forced his way once more into the whirling jumble of canvas that had been his tent. He found the lantern and fought his way out again.

“There’s nothing more to be done,” shouted Nancy. “Come on.”

They went into the Amazons’ tent, where the candle lantern was guttering out. John lit the big lantern and put it in the middle of the floor. Nancy hurried out again to slacken the ropes of her tent. Then she came in and closed the flaps of the door.

“Our tent has its back to the wind,” she said. “All the big winds come from the south. That’s why we chose this place for it. The poles at each end help it too. Our tent’ll stand anything.”

“Did you get very wet?” said Mate Susan.

“Rather,” said Captain John.

“I’m soaked,” said Nancy. “Lovely.”

There was not much room for the six of them and the parrot cage in the Amazons’ tent. They sat three on each of the sleeping-bags. Between them right at the back of the tent was the bundle of dry firewood that Nancy had rescued for the morning. Then there was the parrot’s cage, and then the farm lantern in the middle of the floor. It was a tight pack on each side, because they had to take care not to touch the tent walls. The weather outside seemed to matter less now that they were all together. Even Peggy, who really could not help not liking thunder, was cheerful again, partly because it would never do to show Roger that she was afraid. With Nancy it was different. Nancy knew, so that with her it was no use pretending. Susan was a little worried about the things getting wet, but glad that no worse had happened. John was thinking how lucky it was that the storm had waited till their last night. Nancy was proud of her strong tent and enjoyed the wind buffeting against it. Titty, with sparkling eyes, was thinking of typhoons. The parrot was putting his feathers to rights and now and then whistling cheerfully at the bright lantern so near him on the floor.

For some time they sat there, listening to the storm raging over the island. Then, ashamed that he had not remembered them earlier, John thought of the boats. “I’m going to have a look at Swallow,” he said.

“Shiver my timbers,” said Captain Nancy. “There’s Amazon too. It’s a good thing we moored them properly last night.”

The two captains got on their feet. Nancy unfastened the tent flaps.

“Better fasten them up again when we’re outside,” she said.

“I’m coming too,” said Titty. “The parrot’ll be all right now.”

“You’ll only get wet,” said Susan.

“I am wet,” said Titty. “I couldn’t be wetter. I want to see it. We may never have another storm as good as this one.”

“I’m going too,” said Roger.

WIND, RAIN AND LIGHTNING

“No, you are not,” said the mate, “you’re dry.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do, Roger,” said John. “You can lend Captain Nancy your torch. Her lantern’s no good and you’ll want the big one in the tent.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Roger. If he could not go, at least his torch could, and that was better than nothing.

Titty, John, and Nancy slipped out of the tent into the storm. Using the torches and bending low against the wind and rain, they forced their way along the path to the harbour. There was a lot of water in the boats and the lake had already risen a little, but the Swallow and the Amazon, moored as they were, were quite all right.

“I’m going to slacken away my bow warp,” said Captain John. “It’s got very taut with all this wet.”

“I’ll do the same with mine.”

They loosened the painters a little.

“It’s a grand harbour, you know,” shouted Nancy. “Just listen to it outside.”

In the sheltered harbour there were waves, but nothing to matter. The big rocks on either side broke the waves before they could get in. But they could hear the crashing of breakers on the outer shoals and along the steep western shore. Titty slipped away from the others and crawled to the edge of the low cliff that ran along that shore, and crouched there, facing into the wind. Spray from the waves breaking beneath her was blown into her face. Flashes of lightning lit up the whole lake and showed great waves stretching right across it with white curling tops. Then it was dark again. Then more lightning showed her the fields and woods and hills on the other side of the lake, beyond the raging water.

The others missed her and would have gone back to the tent without her if Nancy had not seen the gleam of a torch away to the left of the path.

John found her and tugged at her sleeve.

“Come along,” he shouted. “We thought you’d gone on already.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty, though John could not hear her, and they joined Nancy on the path and went back to the tent together.

“Well,” said Susan, “if you were wet before, you’re a lot wetter now. And nothing to change into.”

“It was worth it,” said Titty.

“Were the boats all right?” asked Roger.

“Couldn’t be snugger,” said Captain Nancy. “But their crews will have a lot of baling to do in the morning.”

“What’s the time now?” said Peggy. “Susan says it’s only about three.”

“It’s nearly five,” said John.

Nobody could go to sleep. They became shipwrecked sailors.

“Both our masts went by the board,” said Captain Nancy.

“And before that the mizen was struck by lightning,” said Captain John.

“Did you see the blue lights flickering on the ends of the spars?” said Nancy. “That was before the mizen was struck.”

“Then we started a plank,” said John, “and the water poured in.”

“The mate came running on deck shouting, ‘All hands to the pumps, five feet of water in the hold.’ That was you, Susan,” said Nancy.

“Why not me?” said Peggy.

“You were the second mate. You were cutting the wreckage adrift and making a raft. No, you weren’t. We didn’t make a raft. I forgot. You were cutting the wreckage adrift to clear the decks, and seeing to the lowering of the boats.”

“One boat was called Swallow and the other was called Amazon,” said Roger.

“And the waves were breaking over the ship,” said Titty, “and she was going down by the head with every soul on board. Someone had killed an albatross.”

“Pieces of eight, pieces of eight,” shouted the parrot.

“Yes. She was full of them,” said Titty. “That’s what made her sink so fast.”

“We launched the boats,” said Nancy, “and then the ship went down and we were alone on the deep.”

“Sometimes in the waves we could not see each other,” said John, “but sometimes we could.”

“We had no food in the boats but a biscuit each and a little water,” said Susan.

“Day after day we ran before the storm,” said Nancy. “North-west by north was our course. We had decided it before we left the ship.”

“We ate the biscuits and drank the water,” said Peggy.

“It blew and thundered and lightened and rained without stopping,” said Titty, “and Roger and I were baling Swallow and Peggy was baling Amazon.”

“Then the rain stopped, and for days and days we had nothing to eat and nothing to drink,” said Nancy.

“In Swallow we were going to draw lots who was to be eaten first,” said Titty.

“We were coming to that when we sighted land,” said Nancy.

“We sighted land too, just in time,” said Roger.

“There were great breakers on the beach,” said Nancy.

“We only saw the land when there was a flash of lightning,” said Titty. “Palm trees waving like anything.”

“There was lightning all the time,” said Nancy. “We ran on between the breakers. Our boats were capsized and we clung to them. They were thrown far up the beach by the waves. We were battered but saved.”

“So was the parrot,” said Titty. “And now we shall be here for twenty years. Every day we shall watch for a passing ship.”

“But how have we got a tent?” said Roger.

“Luckily there was one in one of the boats,” said Nancy. “I say, Peggy, what about a round of chocolate? There’s still a lot left.”

At last it began to grow light outside. For some time the thunder had been lagging after the lightning. After a flash it was a long time before the rumbling of the thunder began far away. The wind dropped. The noise of the rain on the tent grew less and less and came to an end. The dawn came up behind the eastern hills. The light of the lantern no longer filled the tent. Light was coming in from outside, through the canvas. The Swallows and Amazons went out into the early morning to look at the wreck of their camp. Patches of blue sky were showing overhead and patches of sunlight on the hills. Ragged clouds were blowing away. There was a wonderful smell of wet earth. The storm was over.

John went back into the tent to tap the barometer. It was going up.

Susan began raking the sodden ashes out of the fireplace. Nancy brought out her bundle of dry sticks. All the rest of the firewood was dripping wet, and it took them a long time to get their fire going. Without the dry sticks they could never have done it. Titty burrowed into what had been her tent and the mate’s, and brought out the parrot’s blue cloth and hung it on two sticks to dry.