Читать книгу Five Get Into Trouble - Enid blyton - Страница 4

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They were all ready the next day. Everything was neatly packed and strapped to the bicycles, except for the rucksacks, which each child was to carry on his or her back. The baskets held a variety of food for that day, but when it had been eaten Julian was to buy what they needed.

‘I suppose all their brakes are in order?’ said Uncle Quentin, thinking he ought to take some interest in the proceedings, and remembering that when he was a boy and had a bicycle, the brakes would never work.

‘Oh Uncle Quentin—of course they’re all right,’ said Dick. ‘We’d never dream of going out on our bikes if the brakes and things weren’t in order. The Highway Code is very strict about things like that, you know—and so are we!’

Uncle Quentin looked as if he had never even heard of the Highway Code. It was quite likely he hadn’t. He lived in a world of his own, a world of theories and figures and diagrams—and he was eager to get back to it! However, he waited politely for the children to make last-minute adjustments, and then they were ready.

‘Good-bye, Aunt Fanny! I’m afraid we shan’t be able to write to you, as you won’t be able to get in touch with us to let us know where you get fixed up. Never mind, enjoy yourselves,’ said Julian.

‘Good-bye, Mother! Don’t worry about us—we’ll be having a jolly good time!’ called George.

‘Good-bye, Aunt Fanny; good-bye, Uncle Quentin!’

‘So long, Uncle! Aunt Fanny, we’re off!’

And so they were, cycling down the lane that led away from Kirrin Cottage. Their aunt and uncle stood at the gate, waving till the little party had disappeared round the corner in the sunshine. Timmy was loping along beside George’s bicycle, on his long, strong legs, overjoyed at the idea of a really good run.

‘Well, we’re off,’ said Julian, as they rounded the corner. ‘What a bit of luck, going off like this by ourselves. Good old Uncle Quentin! I’m glad he made that muddle.’

‘Don’t let’s ride too many miles the first day—I always get so stiff if we do.’

‘We’re not going to,’ said Dick. ‘Whenever you feel tired just say so—it doesn’t matter where we stop!’

The morning was very warm. Soon the children began to feel wet with perspiration. They had sweaters on and they took them off, stuffing them in their baskets. George looked more like a boy than ever, with her short curly hair blown up by the wind. All of them wore shorts and thin jerseys except Julian, who had on jeans. He rolled up the sleeves of his jersey, and the others did the same.

They covered mile after mile, enjoying the sun and the wind. Timmy galloped beside them, untiring, his long pink tongue hanging out. He ran on the grassy edge of the road when there was one. He really was a very sensible dog!

They stopped at a tiny village called Manlington-Tovey. It had only one general store, but it sold practically everything—or seemed to! ‘Hope it sells ginger-beer!’ said Julian. ‘My tongue’s hanging out like Timmy’s!’

The little shop sold lemonade, orangeade, lime juice, grape-fruit juice and ginger-beer. It was really difficult to choose which to have. It also sold ice-creams, and soon the children were sitting drinking ginger-beer and lime-juice mixed, and eating delicious ices.

‘Timmy must have an ice,’ said George. ‘He does so love them. Don’t you, Timmy?’

‘Woof,’ said Timmy, and gulped his ice down in two big, gurgly licks.

‘It’s really a waste of ice-creams to give them to Timmy,’ said Anne. ‘He hardly has time to taste them, he gobbles them so. No, Timmy, get down. I’m going to finish up every single bit of mine, and there won’t be even a lick for you!’

Timmy went off to drink from a bowl of water that the shopwoman had put down for him. He drank and he drank, then he flopped down, panting.

The children took a bottle of ginger-beer each with them when they went off again. They meant to have it with their lunch. Already they were beginning to think with pleasure of eating the sandwiches put up into neat packets for them.

Anne saw some cows pulling at the grass in a meadow as they passed. ‘It must be awful to be a cow and eat nothing but tasteless grass,’ she called to George. ‘Think what a cow misses—never tastes an egg and lettuce sandwich, never eats a chocolate eclair, never has a boiled egg—and can’t even drink a glass of ginger-beer! Poor cows!’

George laughed. ‘You do think of silly things, Anne,’ she said. ‘Now you’ve made me want my lunch all the more—talking about egg sandwiches and ginger-beer! I know Mother made us egg sandwiches—and sardine ones too.’

‘It’s no good,’ chimed in Dick, leading the way into a little copse, his bicycle wobbling dangerously, ‘it’s no good—we can’t go another inch if you girls are going to jabber about food all the time. Julian, what about lunch?’

It was a lovely picnic, that first one in the copse. There were clumps of primroses all round, and from somewhere nearby came the sweet scent of hidden violets. A thrush was singing madly on a hazel tree, with two chaffinches calling ‘pink-pink’ every time he stopped.

‘Band and decorations laid on,’ said Julian, waving his hand towards the singing birds and the primroses. ‘Very nice too. We just want a waiter to come and present us with a menu!’

A rabbit lolloped near, its big ears standing straight up inquiringly. ‘Ah—the waiter!’ said Julian, at once. ‘What have you to offer us today, Bunny? A nice rabbit-pie?’

The rabbit scampered off at top speed. It had caught the smell of Timmy nearby and was panic-stricken. The children laughed, because it seemed as if it was the mention of rabbit-pie that had sent it away. Timmy stared at the disappearing rabbit, but made no move to go after it.

‘Well, Timmy! That’s the first time you’ve ever let a rabbit go off on its own,’ said Dick. ‘You must be hot and tired. Got anything for him to eat, George?’

‘Of course,’ said George. ‘I made his sandwiches myself.’

And so she had! She had bought sausage meat at the butchers and had actually made Timmy twelve sandwiches with it, all neatly cut and packed.

The others laughed. George never minded taking trouble over Timmy. He wolfed his sandwiches eagerly, and thumped his tail hard on the mossy ground. They all sat and munched happily, perfectly contented to be together out in the open air, eating a wonderful lunch.

Anne gave a scream. ‘George! Look what you’re doing! You’re eating one of Timmy’s sandwiches!’

‘Urhh!’ said George. ‘I thought it tasted a bit strong. I must have given Timmy one of mine and taken his instead. Sorry, Tim!’

‘Woof,’ said Tim politely, and accepted another of his sandwiches.

‘At the rate he eats them he wouldn’t really notice if he had twenty or fifty,’ remarked Julian. ‘He’s had all his now, hasn’t he? Well, look out, everybody—he’ll be after ours. Aha—the band has struck up again!’

Everyone listened to the thrush. ‘Mind how you go,’ sang the thrush. ‘Mind how you go! Mind how you do-it, do-it, do-it!’

‘Sounds like a Safety First poster,’ said Dick, and settled down with his head on a cushion of moss. ‘All right, old bird—we’ll mind how we go—but we’re going to have a bit of a snooze now, so don’t play the band too loudly!’

‘It would be a good idea to have a bit of a rest,’ said Julian, yawning. ‘We’ve done pretty well, so far. We don’t want to tire ourselves out the very first day. Get off my legs, Timmy—you’re frightfully heavy with all those sandwiches inside you.’

Timmy removed himself. He went to George and flumped himself down beside her, licking her face. She pushed him away.

‘Don’t be so licky,’ she said, sleepily, ‘Just be on guard like a good dog, and see that nobody comes along and steals our bikes.’

Timmy knew what ‘on guard’ meant, of course. He sat up straight when he heard the words, and looked carefully all round, sniffing as he did so. Anyone about? No. Not a sight, sound or smell of any stranger. Timmy lay down again, one ear cocked, and one eye very slightly open. George always thought it was marvellous the way he could be asleep with one ear and eye and awake with the others. She was about to say this to Dick and Julian when she saw that they were sound asleep.

She fell asleep too. Nobody came to disturb them. A small robin hopped near inquisitively, and, with his head on one side, considered whether or not it would be a good thing to pull a few hairs out of Timmy’s tail to line his new nest. The slit in Timmy’s awake-eye widened a little—woe betide the robin if he tried any funny tricks on Timmy!

The robin flew off. The thrush sang a little more, and the rabbit came out again. Timmy’s eye opened wide. The rabbit fled. Timmy gave a tiny snore. Was he awake or was he asleep? The rabbit wasn’t going to wait and find out!

It was half past three when they all awoke one by one. Julian looked at his watch. ‘It’s almost tea-time!’ he said, and Anne gave a little squeal.

‘Oh no—why we’ve only just had lunch, and I’m still as full as can be!’

Julian grinned. ‘It’s all right. We’ll go by our tummies for our meals, not by our watches, Anne. Come on, get up! We’ll go without you if you don’t.’

They wheeled their bicycles out of the primrose copse and mounted again. The breeze was lovely to feel on their faces. Anne gave a little groan.

‘Oh dear—I feel a bit stiff already. Do you mean to go very many miles more, Ju?’

‘No, not many,’ said Julian. ‘I thought we’d have tea somewhere when we feel like it—and then do a bit of shopping for our supper and breakfast—and then hunt about for a really good place to put up our tents for the night. I found a little lake on the map, and I thought we could have a swim in it if we can find it.’

This all sounded very good indeed. George felt she could cycle for miles if a swim in a lake was at the end of it.

‘That’s a very nice plan of yours,’ she said, approvingly. ‘Very nice indeed. I think our whole tour ought to be planned round lakes—so that we can always have a swim, night and morning!’

‘Woof,’ said Timmy, running beside George’s bicycle. ‘Woof!’

‘Timmy agrees too,’ said George, with a laugh. ‘But, oh dear—I don’t believe he brought his bathing-towel!’