Читать книгу The Adventurous Four - Enid blyton - Страница 6

Table of Contents

It was a rather solemn set of children who sat down on the shore to eat breakfast. They had been brave during the storm—but now they all felt very tired and rather scared. It was strange to think they might have to stay for quite a long time on the unknown island until they were rescued—and supposing they were right off the route of the ships and steamers that used those seas?

Andy took charge. He was the oldest and wisest, and the others looked up to him. He was old for his fourteen years. He stared out at their wrecked ship, and wrinkled his forehead.

“Well, we’re in a nice fix,” he said. “But we’ll forget it for a minute and enjoy our breakfast. We’d better finish up all the bread, for it will soon be stale. We’ll eat all the food that might go bad—there’s that open jar of potted meat, Tom, that we began last night—and the rest of the butter—and those buns that Mrs. Andrews gave us. And what about something hot to drink? I don’t feel really cold, but it would do us good to get something hot inside us. Look—I brought the matches with me, wrapped in this oilskin so that they wouldn’t get wet. We can’t get the stove going till we get the tin of oil out of the locker in the boat—we forgot that—so we’d better make a fire on the beach.”

Tom and Jill collected sticks, and soon there was a fine fire going. Andy went off up the cliff to see if he could find a stream to fill the kettle, which they had taken from the boat. He had to go a good way before he found a spring running down the little hill in the distance. He filled the kettle and went back to the cove.

“Good—the fire’s going well,” he said. “I found a spring, so we needn’t worry about water. Where’s the tin of cocoa—and we must finish up that Nestlé’s milk we opened, or it will go bad.”

The kettle soon boiled, and the children made thick cocoa. They added the tinned milk to it and drank with enjoyment. The cocoa was good. The twins, who were cold, felt warmed up at once. Their clothes were still wet, and although the sun now shone down hotly they felt chilly.

Tom yawned. He was not used to keeping awake half the night. The girls were tired out, too, for they had been very sea-sick in the storm.

Andy had laid out the rugs in the sun. He felt them. They were almost dry.

“We’d better get off our wet things and hang them on the bushes to dry,” he said. “We’ll roll ourselves in these rugs, and lie down in the sheltered corner over there by the cliff, in the sun, and sleep off our bad night.”

So in three or four minutes all that could be seen of the children were four tightly-rolled bundles lying peacefully asleep in the sunshine, well out of the wind in a cosy corner of the beach. Their damp clothes were spread out on bushes to dry, and were already steaming in the sun.

Andy awoke first. He knew at once where he was, and remembered all that had happened. He sat up to look at their ship. The tide was going down again now, and the ship looked queer, slanting sideways, caught fast between the two big rocks. Andy wondered what his father would say when he knew what had happened. It was a serious thing to lose a fishing-boat.

The sun was high in the sky. Andy threw off his rug and went to feel his clothes on the bush. They were perfectly dry. He put them on, and then went to the big pile of things they had taken from the ship. He looked among them and found a fishing-line.

He hunted about for a sandworm, baited his hook, and clambered out on the rocks, where deep water swirled around him. He lowered his line into the water. In ten minutes he had caught his first fish, and was baiting the line again.

Tom awoke next. He sat up on the sand, astonished to hear the sea so close. Then he remembered all that had happened and leapt to his feet. He awoke the girls and they put on their warm clothes. They saw Andy, and waved to him.

“Andy’s getting our dinner!” said Jill. “I suppose you’re feeling as hungry as usual, Tom?”

“I could eat a whale!” said Tom, and he really felt as if he could.

It was fun cooking the fish over a fire. It smelt delicious. There was no bread left so the children had to eat the fish by itself, but they were so hungry that they didn’t mind at all.

“It’s about two o’clock in the afternoon,” said Andy, looking at the sun. “Now the first thing to do is to find a good place to sleep for the night. Then we’d better explore the island, if we’ve time. The food we’ve got with us won’t last a great while, but at any rate we can always get fish—and I expect we’ll find some berries we can eat, too.”

“Look!” said Tom, suddenly pointing to the pile of things not far off. “There’s a gull there. Will he peck our tins open—or eat our cocoa!”

Andy clapped his hands and the gull flew off, crying loudly. “We certainly mustn’t leave any food out,” said Andy. “The gulls would have it at once. Look—there’s two or three fishes left we can have for our supper. We’d better make a hole in the sand and bury them under some heavy stones till we want them. The gulls would soon make a meal of them if we left them uncovered!”

They buried the fish. Andy stood up and looked all round the cliff.

“I wonder if there’s a cave we could sleep in at night,” he said. But there didn’t seem to be any cave at all, though the children hunted carefully all along the cliff.

“How will anyone know we are here?” asked Jill. “We shall have to put up some sort of a sign, shan’t we, to show any passing ship or steamer that we are here?”

“Yes,” said Andy. “I’ve been thinking about that. I’ll take down the ship’s sail, and we’ll tie it to a tree on the top of the cliff. That will be a fine signal.”

“Good idea!” said Tom. “It will flap in the wind and be seen for miles.”

“We’ll find a sleeping-place for the night before we do that,” said Andy. “It looks like rain again now—see that low cloud over there? We don’t want to be soaked in our sleep. Come on.”

They left the sandy cove and climbed up the steep cliff. It was hard going, but they got to the top at last, and once more looked across the island. They could not see right across it because the hill in the middle stopped their view—so they did not know how big or small it was. All they knew was that, at present, they could not see any sign of anyone else there or of any house or other building.

“How I’d love to see a cow or two!” said Jill.

“Whatever for?” said Mary in surprise. “I didn’t know you liked cows so much, Jill.”

“I don’t,” said Jill. “But cows would mean a farmer, silly—and a farmer means a farmhouse—and a farmhouse means lots of people, and help, of course!”

The others laughed. “Well, let’s hope we see one or two cows for you, Jill,” said Tom. “Which way shall we go, Andy?”

“We’ll make our way to the hill,” said Andy. “There’s bracken there, and heather, and maybe we can find a hill-cave to snuggle in. Bracken and heather make a fine bed, and we’ve got the rugs for covers.”

They ran to the hill. It had a little wood of wind-blown pines and birches, but there was no cave in the hillside they could shelter in. It was covered with thick-growing bracken and heather, with a few stunted gorse bushes—but there was no place that would really give them a safe shelter to sleep.

“Well, we’ll have to rig up a tent of some sort,” said Andy at last. “I’m not going to be soaked through tonight. I’ve had enough of that to last me for quite a while.”

“A tent, Andy!” said Tom. “Wherever would we get a tent from? Buy it from a shop, I suppose?”

“I’m going to get the old sail off the boat,” said Andy. “We can use it for a signal by day and a tent by night. It’s big enough to cover us all quite well.”

“Andy, you have got good ideas!” said Jill. “I should never have thought of that. Well, shall we go back then and help you?”

“No,” said Andy. “You stay here with Tom and help him to build a kind of tent-house that we can just drape the sail over. You’ll want some stout branches, stuck well into the ground. I’ll go and get the sail.”

Andy went off down to the shore again, and clambered and waded out to the boat. He was soon taking down the old sail.

The others hunted for good branches. The ones lying on the ground were too brittle and old, they found.

“They’ll make good firewood,” said Tom. “We’ll have to break a few growing branches off the trees.”

It was difficult to do this, but they managed it at last. Then they drove the stout sticks into the heathery ground and made a kind of circle with them, big enough to hold them all.

They had just finished when Andy came back, bent double under the heavy sail. He threw it down and panted.

“I thought I’d never get it up the cliff,” he said. “I say, you’ve made a fine set of walls. The sail will go over them nicely.”

Eight willing hands helped to arrange the big brown sail over the circle of sticks stuck firmly into the ground. The weight of the sail kept it down, and when the children had finished, they had made a kind of round, brown tent, with no doorway. But as the children could get in anywhere under the tent simply by lifting up the sail, it didn’t matter having no doorway.

“We’ll gather a nice pile of heather and put it inside the tent to lie on,” said Tom. “And with our rugs, too, we shall be as cosy and warm as toast! In fact, we may be much too hot!”

“Well, if we are, we’ll just lift up one side of the tent and let the breeze blow in,” said Jill. “Oh, I do feel excited! I really feel as if we’ve got a sort of little home, now we’ve made this tent!”

“There isn’t time to explore the island now,” said Andy, looking in surprise at the sinking sun. “We’ve taken ages over the tent. We’ll go all over the island to-morrow.”

“That will be fun,” said Mary. “I do wonder what we’ll find!”