Читать книгу Swallows & Amazons (ALL 12 Adventure Novels) - Arthur Ransome - Страница 24

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After about half an hour at the look-out place, Captain John felt himself again. After all, nothing could be done about Captain Flint without the help of the Amazons. He was their uncle, not the uncle of the Swallows. If the Swallows had had an uncle, he would have been different. John had thought of writing a letter to the houseboat man, but he was no good at writing. Susan was even worse. Titty was the one for that, and Titty would not write the sort of letter that was needed. Bother the calm. If only there had been a wind and a chance of meeting the Amazons he would never have had to go by himself to give Captain Flint his message, and the thing would never have happened. But the big hills far up the lake helped to make him feel that the houseboat man did not matter. The hills had been there before Captain Flint. They would be there for ever. That, somehow, was comforting. John cheered up, and decided that it was a good day for swimming round the island.

He went down to the camp.

“Susan,” he said, “it’s a lovely day for swimming round the island.”

“Are you sure you can?” said Susan.

“I’m going to try,” said John. “I can come ashore if I get too tired.”

The others came down to the landing-place to see him start. He swam at first with the side-stroke, fast and splashy. It was easy work to swim to the rocks at the low end of the island. Titty and Roger ran to the harbour, and climbed on a high rock to see him swimming round well outside the rocks that guarded the passage. “Hurrah,” they shouted as they saw him go by. Then they ran to the western side of the island, where the rock dropped straight down like a wall into deep water. John came swimming along, using breast stroke now for a change, quietly and not hurrying. He began to feel that it was a very long way down that western side.

“Stick to it,” shouted Titty.

“Go it,” shouted Roger.

Susan came up from the camp to the tall pine at the northern end of the island, and looked down from the high rocky wall. John had almost reached the look-out place. He was moving very slowly.

“You can get ashore just here if you’re done,” she called, “then you can rest and go on again.”

John tried to wave his hand, and got a lot of water into his mouth in doing so. He turned on his back and floated, blowing like a whale.

“You’re nearly round,” shouted Titty, who had run up to the look-out place and joined Susan.

John began again, kicking with his legs and using his arms only a little. He was round the head of the island. He went on swimming on his back. He turned over and lifted his head. For one moment he saw the landing-place, and Swallow lying there pulled up on the beach. His head went down, and he got more water in his mouth. He blew and spluttered. Still the landing-place was really not so very far off. He turned on his side and swam on. Somehow his arms would not pull, and his legs would not gather up and kick as hard as they ought to.

“You’ve done it,” shouted Titty.

“Come on,” shouted Roger.

Again John caught a glimpse of the landing-place. He must do it now. Suddenly he felt stronger again. He swam in towards the beach. He had started from this side of Swallow. Well, he would not touch bottom until he was on the other side. Another two strokes and he gripped Swallow’s port gunwale, touched the bottom, and crawled ashore, coughing, spitting, shivering, spluttering, and triumphant. Titty and Roger cheered. John was too much out of breath to speak.

“Here’s a towel,” said Susan. “I’ve hotted it by the fire.”

He put it round his shoulders. He rubbed first one arm and then the other. He felt much better.

“Well, I thought I could do it,” he said at last. The day was a good day after all, in spite of Captain Flint.

Susan was just thinking of getting dinner ready when there was a shout from Titty, who had taken the telescope up to the look-out place just in case of cormorants, pirates, or anything else worth looking at.

“A native boat,” she shouted. “It’s mother. It’s the female native. She’s got her little native with her, and the nurse belonging to it.”

The Swallows all ran to the look-out point. The female native herself was rowing. She had already passed Houseboat Bay. Vicky and nurse were sitting in the stern of the rowing boat. The Swallows had one look and then rushed back to tidy their tents and put the camp in order. They spread their blankets neatly over their haybags, and turned down the tops of them. Susan put a lot of fresh wood on the fire. There was not much else to do. Then they ran back to the look-out place. The female native was already quite near. They waved. Nurse and Vicky waved back. The female native couldn’t wave, because she was rowing. She passed the head of the island, and a moment later was pulling in to the landing-place. The Swallows were there before her.

“Sit still, nurse, till I get ashore,” said the female native.

The Swallows had already seized the boat and pulled it up. There was a big hamper in the boat just forward of the rowing thwart. The female native climbed round it.

“Welcome to Wild Cat Island,” said Titty.

“Welcome, welcome,” shouted the others.

There was a general scramble. Mother might be a native, but it was all right to kiss her none the less.

The female native counted the Swallows after she had kissed them. “One, two, three, four,” she said. “No one drowned yet. That’s a good thing, because it’s somebody’s birthday.”

“Whose? Whose?” they shouted. “It can’t be John’s, because he’s just had one.”

“No, it isn’t John’s.”

“Is it mine?” said Roger.

“No,” said mother.

“Is it mine?” said Titty.

“No.”

“It can’t be mine,” said Susan, “because mine’s on New Year’s Day, and this is summer.”

“Whose is it?” they asked.

“Vicky’s, of course,” said the female native. “She’s two. Rather too young for a birthday, really, so I’ve brought a present for each of you.”

“What about Vicky?” said Susan.

“Vicky’s got a lamb and an elephant. I took her to the shop, and she chose them herself. Now then, help me out with the hamper, so that nurse and Vicky can come ashore.”

“It’s a very heavy hamper,” said Titty.

“The presents are not,” said the female native. “The presents are very small.”

“Then what’s in the hamper?” said Roger.

“Birthday feast, of course,” said the female native.

“Hurrah, no cooking,” said Susan.

“Aha,” laughed the female native. “I thought you’d get tired of that. But I must say you seem to have managed very well. No illness in the camp?”

“None at all,” said Susan, “and I’m not sick of cooking, but it’s jolly not to have to just for once.”

“Of course we’ve had plague and yellow fever and Black Jack and all the other illnesses belonging to desert islands,” said Titty. “But we cured them all at once.”

“That’s right,” said the female native, “never let an illness linger about.”

They carried the hamper up to the camp. Nurse brought Vicky ashore, and they all wished her many happy returns. Vicky had the elephant with her. She forgot her lamb in the boat, and it had to be fetched later. Vicky liked the elephant better than the lamb because it was smaller. The lamb was so large it was always being put down and forgotten.

The female native opened the hamper. On the top, well wrapped up in tissue paper, was a birthday cake, a huge one with Victoria written in pink sugar on the white icing and two large cherries in the middle, because Vicky was two years old. Then there was a cold chicken. Then there was a salad in a big pudding-basin. Then there was an enormous gooseberry tart. Then there was a melon. Then there was a really huge bunch of bananas which the female native tied in a tree as if it was growing there. “You can pick them just as you want them,” she said.

Then there were more ordinary stores, a tin of golden syrup, two big pots of marmalade and a great tin of squashed-fly biscuits. Squashed-fly biscuits are those flat biscuits with currants in them, just the thing for explorers. Then there were three bunloaves and six bottles of ginger beer.

“Hurrah for the grog,” said Titty.

“But where are the presents?” said Roger.

“I told you they were very little ones,” said the female native. “Here they are.”

She dug down at the bottom of the hamper and brought up four small brown paper parcels, each about as big as an ordinary envelope and as fat as a matchbox.

“The nights are getting very dark now,” she said, “with no moon, so I thought perhaps you could do with some electric torches. You mustn’t keep them lit for long at a time or they’ll soon wear out. But for signalling, or looking for something in the dark. . . .”

“Mother,” cried Captain John, “how did you guess we were wanting them? They’ve come exactly at the right moment.”

The others were flashing their torches at once, but they were not much good in the sunlight. Roger and Titty went into the mate’s tent and crawled under the groundsheet to get some darkness.

When they came back, rubbing the mud from their knees, for under the groundsheet it had been very damp and sticky, the female native said, “I’ve had a letter from daddy, and he reminded me of something. Can Roger swim yet?”

“He swam on his back for the first time to-day,” said John. “Three good strokes. Once he can do that he will be able to swim on his front quite easily.”

“Shall I show you?” said Roger, and was for running down to the landing-place at once.

“Before we go home,” said the female native. “Not this minute. Well, daddy said that Roger was to have a knife of his own as soon as he could swim, and I brought it with me in case he could.”

She dipped into the hamper for the last time and pulled out a knife with a good big blade. Roger was off with it at once, trying it on the trees. “Now I can make blazes, just like Titty,” he shouted.

“If you can really swim three strokes both on your back and on your front, you can keep it,” said the female native. “If not, I must take it back to-night and bring it again next time.”

“I’m sure I can do it,” said Roger, wiping the blade on his knickerbockers.

“You’ll have to show me,” said the female native. “No feet on the bottom, you know.”

“Not even one toe,” said Roger.

Then came the birthday feast. There is no need to say anything about that. It was a good one. No one had much time for talking. It ended after Roger had been sent to pick some bananas from the new banana tree.

“I hear you’ve had some visitors,” said mother.

The Swallows stared at her. It really was astonishing how news flew about among these natives.

“Mrs. Blackett called on me yesterday and told me her little girls had met you on the island. She seemed very jolly. How did you get on with the girls?”

“Beautifully,” said Susan. “One is called Nancy and the other is called Peggy.”

“Really,” said mother. “I thought the elder one was called Ruth.”

“That’s only when she is with the natives,” said Titty. “She is the captain of the Amazon pirates, and when she’s a pirate her name is Nancy. We call her Nancy.”

“I see,” said mother. “Mrs. Blackett said they were a couple of tomboys, and she was afraid they might be too wild for you.”

“They aren’t any wilder than we are,” said Titty.

“I hope not,” said mother, laughing.

Then she said, “Their uncle lives during the summer in that houseboat we saw. You haven’t been meddling with it, have you?”

“No,” said John, gloomily. “But he thinks we have.”

“I know,” said mother, “Mrs. Dixon told me. I said I was sure you hadn’t.”

“But he thinks we have. He’s been here. He came when we were all away and left this.” John pulled out the note and gave it to mother.

Mother looked at it. “Who is Captain Flint,” she asked.

“He is,” said Titty.

“Oh,” said mother.

Then John told her of what the charcoal-burners had said, and of how he had gone to give the message himself, because there was no wind and he could not give it to the Amazons.

“You did quite right,” said mother, “but Mrs. Dixon said he was going away for a night or two.”

“He was just going when I saw him this morning,” said John.

“Wasn’t he pleased to get the message?” said mother.

“He wouldn’t listen to me,” said John. “He called me a liar.” The whole trouble of the morning loomed up again.

“He wouldn’t have called you that if he knew you,” said mother. “It doesn’t matter what people think or say if they don’t know you. They may think anything. What did you do?”

“I came away,” said John.

“Mrs. Blackett says he is very busy over some writing and wants to be let alone. She says she’s afraid her tomboys lead him a terrible life.”

There was silence. It was all right to talk to mother about their own affairs. Mother was a friendly native. But nothing could be said about the affairs of the Amazons. Mother noticed the silence, and at once began to talk of something else. She really was the very best of natives.

The birthday party grew cheerful again. The female native told stories of old days before they had been born. She talked of Malta and Gibraltar, and of sailing in Sydney Harbour when she was a little girl.

Later on in the afternoon they bathed, and mother came down to the landing-place to see Roger swim. He swam three strokes on his front and managed six good kicks on his back.

“If you have got as far as that,” the female native said, “I think you can keep the knife. All you want now is practice.”

John wanted to swim round the island again to show her that he could do it, but she said that once was quite enough for one day. Titty did some pearl-diving. Susan swam a short race with John and very nearly beat him.

Then there was tea.

At last it was time to take Vicky home.

The empty hamper was carried down to the landing-place.

“How soon are you going to get tired of your island?” asked the female native.

“Never, never,” said the Swallows.

“You’ve been lucky to have good weather so far,” she said. “And you seem to be doing yourselves no harm. But there’s only another week before we must be going south. You can stay here until nearly the end of it, unless the weather breaks. If the weather breaks, I mean if the rainy season comes on, you’ll have to come away. In the rainy season desert islands, even the best of them, are almost uninhabitable.”

The Swallows looked at each other.

“A week’s a long time,” said mother.

“But we want to stay for ever,” said Roger.

“I dare say you do,” said the female native.

She kissed them all round. They all kissed fat Vicky. Nurse and Vicky got into the boat and sat down in the stern.

Titty said, “Mother, you don’t mind being a native, do you?”

“Not a bit,” said mother.

“Then just for one minute I’ll be a native too. What about rubbing noses? Like the natives you told us about in the Australian bush.”

Titty and the female native rubbed noses, after which, of course, Roger had to do the same.

Then the female native kissed all the Swallows good-bye and took her place in the boat. The empty hamper was lifted in. John and Susan pushed the boat off, and mother rowed away.

“Let’s be a convoy,” said Captain John.

In a moment Swallow was afloat, her crew was aboard, and Captain John was rowing as hard as he could. The female native waited, resting on her oars. Then they rowed side by side. It was much harder to row Swallow than to row the boat from Holly Howe, because Swallow was deep in the water and built for sailing, not rowing. But the female native did not hurry. At last, just before they came to Houseboat Bay, Captain John stopped. He did not want to see the houseboat again that day. He turned Swallow round.

“Good-bye, natives,” called Titty.

“Good-bye, palefaces,” called the female native. “Drool is the word, isn’t it? Drool. Drool.”

“Let me row,” said Roger.

“Let me,” said Titty.

Captain John gave them each an oar. He and Susan sat in the stern. Roger rowed in the bows. Titty rowed stroke. Susan steered.

Susan pulled out her handkerchief to wave to the boat with the natives, disappearing in the distance. The handkerchief still had a knot in it. She unfastened the knot, but did not say anything.

As they landed once more at Wild Cat Island, John said, “Titty and Roger had better do some whistling for a wind. We shall have to hurry up about the war.”