Читать книгу Swallows & Amazons (ALL 12 Adventure Novels) - Arthur Ransome - Страница 54

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At the bottom of their hearts, even Susan and Titty and Roger, all of whom knew mother very well, had been a little afraid that when she came it would be to tell them that they must come back to Holly Howe. Nancy and Peggy had been sure, secretly, that this was what would happen, and had wondered how it was that in spite of this the shipwrecked explorers had been looking forward to her coming. But the explorers, after all, had a great deal they wanted to tell her, and, too, they had a sort of a half-feeling that when she saw the camp they had made, she would find it hard to believe that anything had gone very seriously wrong. They knew before ever the rowing boat grounded on the beach, before ever it was within hailing distance, that there was a very good chance indeed that the worst was not to happen and that their exploring was not to be brought to an end.

“It’s all right, Susan,” cried Titty, the moment she saw the rowing boat. “It’s all right. Bridgie’s come too. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Peggy stared at her, but Nancy and Susan knew at once what Titty meant. It certainly was very unlikely that Bridget would have been allowed to come if the day was to end with a sad packing up of everything and a return of the explorers to ordinary native life. None of these thoughts came into the head of Roger, who was in a tremendous hurry to tell mother about swimming ashore. Roger never looked very far ahead, but for the others, the sight of Bridget in the boat meant a lot.

The meeting on the beach in the cove, when the boat had turned in between the heads, and the explorers and their allies had scrambled back over the rocks, was much more joyful than it might have been. It was very noisy, because everybody was trying to talk at once, though at first nobody mentioned the question that was in everybody’s mind. Mother was counting the shipwrecked and feeling their clothes and wanting to know exactly how it had all happened. The shipwrecked were telling all about it and at the same time wanting to hear from John and Captain Flint what had been said in Rio about poor Swallow. But no one asked whether they were to be allowed to go on being explorers. Mother said nothing about their having to come home. John seemed much happier. Bridget seemed to have no idea that anything might have gone wrong. And Captain Flint pleased Susan by saying that she had made a first-rate camp.

The talk on the beach was all of shipwreck, but no one who could not hear what was being said would have guessed that only a few hours before Horseshoe Cove had been a desert place. No one looking at that cheerful scene would have guessed that a ship had that very morning been wrecked on a rock at the mouth of this peaceful little bay, or that the camp there, so trim and tidy, had been set up in a hurry that afternoon by mariners who, only a few hours earlier, had had to swim for their lives.

There were the four sleeping-tents, two on each side of the stream, facing towards it, with running water for drinking and washing flowing conveniently past their doors. Behind them, partly hidden among the trees, could be seen the old tent that was now to be used for stores. The huge fire had been allowed to die down, and a kettle was simmering on the neat stone fireplace on the beach where this morning there had been the sort of tremendous blaze on which savages might roast long pig. Hanging out to dry were not the wet clothes of the shipwrecked but a row of bathing things and towels. It was true that the big towel flying from an oar out on the point had showed clearly enough that here were seamen in distress, but now that the best of all natives had arrived, it was taken down for fear that it might seem to be inviting help from other people. Of course, to anyone who knew them it would have seemed odd to see Amazon and Captain Flint’s rowing boat and yet not a sign of Swallow, though her whole ship’s company, from the captain to the parrot, were on the beach.

“What about Swallow?” Titty had asked, the moment she had had a chance of saying a quiet word to Captain John.

But Captain Flint heard her and answered, “It’ll be a week or ten days,” he said, “before she can be afloat again. One of her timbers will have to come out, and then there’ll be at least two new planks to go in. And then they can’t launch her till she’s painted, and they can’t put paint on planks wet from steaming. A week or ten days it’ll be, at least.”

“But she really is going to be all right?”

“She’ll be as good as new.”

“Then I don’t mind being shipwrecked a bit.”

“I thought you wouldn’t,” said Captain Flint. “Who would?”

John and Titty and Captain Flint looked at each other, and Titty knew that she had been right when she had guessed that they were to be allowed to stay on.

And indeed, the best of all natives, after one look round that neat camp, felt a good deal happier. She had counted the shipwrecked even before she had stepped ashore. She had felt their clothes. She had seen with her own eyes that none of the Swallows were missing. She had known already that John was all right, because there he had been, in the boat before her, helping Captain Flint to row her down the lake. But, as for the others, she had only been told that nothing was wrong with them. Telling was hardly enough to make her quite content. After all, she knew that their ship had sunk and that they had had to swim ashore, and in spite of being the best and most sensible native anyone ever knew, she was very pleased to be here and to make sure for herself (by kissing and rubbing noses, for example) that not a single one of the ship’s company had been quite enough of a duffer to be drowned.

“It’s a good thing you hadn’t got the ship’s baby aboard when you were wrecked,” she said at last.

Able-seaman Titty was playing with the ship’s baby. She looked up at once.

“I expect she was on board. It wouldn’t be fair if she wasn’t. You were, weren’t you, Bridgie? And when the ship went down she was put on a raft, and the raft floated away in a current like the Gulf Stream, and we should never have seen her again if you hadn’t happened to be coming along in your canoe and found the ship’s baby sailing away on a raft by herself.”

“That must have been it,” said the best of all natives. “She was sailing away on the raft and had nothing with her to eat but one doughnut, and even that she was sharing with a gull who had perched on her raft and looked hungry.”

“Well, I’m glad you found her,” said the able-seaman.

IN HORSESHOE COVE

It was chiefly Roger, among the shipwrecked, who wanted to take mother out on the point to see where Swallow had gone down and to look at the Pike Rock, now looking innocent enough. Not a word had been said about it by Captain John or Captain Flint as they rowed past it on the way into the cove. But the best of all natives seemed, after all, to want to see even that for herself. Roger showed her the way out over the rocks to the end of the headland, and the others followed her, all except Susan, who, for reasons of her own, was glad to have a minute or two without them, and Bridget, who stayed to help Susan.

“And where, exactly, did Swallow sink?” mother asked.

“Close by the rock,” said Roger. “Wasn’t it lucky I learned to swim last summer?”

“I suppose it was,” said mother.

“Well if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to get far enough to catch hold of the rope and be hauled out,” said Roger.

Then, by questioning, she learned something of how they had all got ashore, and of how the kettle and saucepan and ballast, and at last Swallow herself, had been brought up. Roger was ready with answers to most of her questions. Titty answered some. John said very little. On the whole, perhaps, she learnt most from Nancy and Peggy Blackett.

“And in the end you got her up and out of the water by yourselves?”

“Nancy and Peggy helped like anything,” said John.

“I’m sure they would,” said mother. “I think all of you did very well. And now I don’t want to think about it any more. Things might have been so very much worse.”

“If they had been a different crew, ma’am,” said Captain Flint, who had been listening and saying nothing—“if they had been a different crew, things might have been a great deal worse. But I gather there was no sort of panic, except, perhaps, among the spectators on shore.”

“I only squeaked once,” said Peggy indignantly, “and anybody might have squeaked.”

“You see, ma’am,” said Captain Flint, “there was no panic, even on shore. Taking it all round it seems to have been a shipwreck to be proud of.”

“Well, I’d rather they didn’t do it again,” said the best of all natives.

“We aren’t going to,” said John.

Just then there was the cheerful note of the mate’s whistle, and they heard Bridget calling from the camp that tea was ready.

Susan had had everything nearly ready before ever Nancy had sighted the rowing boat in the distance. The kettle had been on the very edge of boiling, and everything else was being kept cool and out of the way until the last minute, in the store tent. Now the kettle had boiled, tea had been made, and while the others were talking shipwreck at the point, Susan had folded the old ground-sheet in two (the one from which they had cut a patch to put on Swallow’s wound) for a table-cloth, so that when they came back after hearing the whistle and Bridget’s calling, they found a tea worth looking at, with the lids of biscuit tins piled high with slices of fried seed-cake (it had been dried by Peggy and it really did seem to taste all right) and sandwiches of bunloaf, marmalade and butter. Usually on the island it had been found best to carve one very thick slice for each explorer and to put the butter on at the last minute to avoid the sort of accident that so easily happens to anything when one side of it is buttered, and it is not eaten at once. But to-day, thin, buttered slices, and small sandwiches neatly arranged in pyramids, suggested an orderly quiet world in which nothing could ever go wrong.

“I’ve said it before, and I say it again,” said Captain Flint, when he saw what Susan had done, “there never was an expedition that had a better mate.”

Everything was working out just as he had thought it might. Nobody could be much worried about shipwrecks that were already over when the shipwrecked mariners asked them to sit down to such a tea as that. Still, not even Roger thought it quite safe to ask if they were to be allowed to stay. But when tea was over, mother, after saying what a good tea Susan and Bridget had made, let them know what the answer was to the question that had been in everybody’s mind.

“And now,” she said, “if you really don’t want to come back to Holly Howe and get on with the holiday tasks, I suppose I must go and talk to this Mary Swainson.”

“We can do holiday tasks anywhere,” said John.

“If you do a holiday task indoors,” said Titty; “it isn’t really a holiday task. It might just as well be a school one.”

Captain Flint carried Bridget on his shoulder, and they showed the best of all natives the way up the stream and so to the cart-track, and out through the trees to the road, and there they saw Mary Swainson herself talking to a young man sitting on a big roan cart-horse.

“It’s the woodman,” said Titty, “the one we saw leading the three horses and the log when Roger and I were exploring.”

Just then the woodman turned his great horse and rode off, clumpetty clump, down the road, waving his hand to Mary, who waved her hand to him.

“You stay here,” said mother, “and Mr. Turner and I will go across the road to talk to Mary.”

“I’m coming too,” said Bridget.

“Less trouble to carry you than to put you down,” said Captain Flint.

The four explorers and their two allies waited in the wood while mother and Captain Flint, with Bridget on his shoulder, crossed the road to talk to Mary Swainson. They talked to Mary for a minute or two at the other side of the road, and then went off with her along the cart-track that led through the wood to Swainson’s farm. They were gone a long time, while Nancy and Peggy, remembering the plans that had been upset by the shipwreck, and how they had meant to go up to the moor to see the secret valley, were asking Titty and Roger all about it, and just where it was. Titty and Roger answered their questions as well as they could, but were very careful to say nothing about Peter Duck’s cave.

“Let’s go up there the first day we can get away,” said Nancy.

When mother and Captain Flint and Bridget came back, anybody could tell that mother was very pleased with what she had seen. Captain Flint was carrying a basket of eggs, and Bridget was eating an apple.

“She’s a very nice, sensible, kind girl,” said mother, “and I liked the farm, too, and the old people.”

“Did he sing to you?” asked Roger.

“Yes, he did, until Mrs. Swainson and Mary made him stop.”

“He’s a fine, musical old chap, is old Neddy,” said Captain Flint.

“So it’s settled,” said John. “We can stay where we are?”

“Yes,” said mother, “I think you can. Only do please remember what your father said.”

“Hurrah,” said Roger.

And then, when they had got back to the cove, Captain Flint said, “There’s just one thing. They’ll have to find another place for the camp, or they’ll be washed away with the first rain.”

“Why, I ought to have thought of that,” said mother.

“But there are plenty of better places close along the shore,” said Captain Flint. “Dry, anyhow.”

“Not so secret,” said Peggy.

“We’ll find them a place,” said Nancy.

“We’ll go to our valley,” said Titty. “Next to the island, it’s the finest place in the world.”

“What valley is that?” asked mother.

Titty and Roger explained as well as they could.

“I know it,” said Captain Flint. “But I haven’t been up there these twenty years. It’s a good place for a camp, if it’s the place I’m thinking of. It’s got a . . .”

“Oh,” shouted Roger.

“Don’t tell. Don’t tell. . . . It’s a secret. . . . If it’s . . .”

Titty was only just in time to stop him. He looked down, puzzled.

“If it’s what?”

“Whisper it,” said Titty. . . . “Oh, that’s all right. It’s something else that’s a secret.”

“Then I can go on?” asked Captain Flint. “What I was going to say was that it’s got a good trout tarn up above it. I’ll show you how to catch trout there.”

“We saw lots in the beck,” said Roger.

“How far is it from Swainson’s farm?” asked mother.

“Not much farther than we are here,” said Captain Flint.

“We haven’t been up to see it yet,” said John. “We were going to-day. But it would be much better to be near the lake.”

Titty’s hopes that had risen high for a moment fell once more, though not very far. After all, the main thing was that exploring was not to come to an end.

“I don’t mind where you are,” said mother, “so long as you are within reach of Mary Swainson. She’s going to keep me in touch with you when she brings the milk across to the village.”

“And you and Bridgie’ll come to see us,” said Susan.

“And Captain Flint, too,” said Titty.

“I’d like to see if you can make as good a job of being shipwrecked as you did of last year’s war,” said Captain Flint.

“The shipwreck’s real enough,” said John grimly.

“Bother the great-aunt,” said Nancy. “If it wasn’t for her we’d come and be shipwrecked too.” She looked almost resentfully at Amazon, snugly beached beside the rowing boat. “You can do all sorts of things. You can discover the sources of the Amazon River. You can discover us. There’s nothing you can’t do. But we can’t do anything worth doing, not until the great-aunt’s gone.”

“By Jove,” said Captain Flint, “I’m glad you reminded me. We had all to be back for tea, and now we’re going to be late for supper if we don’t hurry. So if Mrs. Walker doesn’t mind.”

“But you can tell her there’s been a shipwreck,” said Roger.

“It’s no good talking of shipwrecks to Aunt Maria,” said Captain Flint.

“Bridget and I ought to be getting back, too,” said mother. “Bridget’s bed-time isn’t far off.”

There was a general embarking. John and Susan pushed off the rowing boat, when mother, Bridget and Captain Flint were aboard. Titty and Roger helped to push off Amazon. Then the four explorers ran out to the northern headland to wave good-bye. It felt queer and wrong to be the ones left on land and to know that even if they wanted, they had no boat in which to put to sea.

“Don’t sit up late to-night,” mother called. “After a shipwreck it’s best to get early to bed.”

The shipwrecked explorers watched the little white sail of Amazon disappear among the islands off Rio. Then the rowing boat moved under the Peak of Darien. It, too, was gone. They felt suddenly very tired. Nobody minded when Susan said they would get supper over at once. They had a good bread-and-milk supper, and when it was done there did not seem to be much that anybody wanted to say, even when it was found that not a flash could be got from any one of the three torches that, in the pocket of a knapsack, had gone down with the ship. Candle-lanterns were all you needed to go to bed by. There was no chattering in the tents while they were wriggling down into their sleeping-bags, and though the noise of the beck hurrying past the tent doors was different from the noise of the lake lapping on the rocks of the island, two minutes after John called “Lights out” there was nobody awake to listen to it.