Читать книгу Well Done Secret Seven - Enid blyton - Страница 6

Four
Making the tree-house

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The next day was really very exciting. If anyone had been in Windy Woods he or she would have been most astonished to see the file of children going down the path, each carrying some kind of load.

They had all met at Peter’s house with their goods. Janet, his sister, had mugs and plates and spoons. Colin had a set of boards, which Jack had to help him with. Jack had coiled yards and yards of rope round his waist and looked really most peculiar.

Barbara was carrying a big rubber sheet carefully folded, and she was helping Pam with a set of old cushions.

‘They’re a bit dirty and flattened out,’ said Pam, ‘but I didn’t think that would matter. I got them out of the garden-shed, they’ve been there ages. I could only find six, so we’ll have to get another somewhere.’

Janet ran to get one from her garden-shed, where the Secret Seven usually held their meetings. That made seven cushions, one for everyone.

George had some chocolate, and also a fine big tin of mixed biscuits. ‘Mother gave me them,’ he said. ‘She says your mother keeps supplying our Society with food, and it’s her turn now.’

‘Jolly fine,’ said Peter, with much approval. ‘What a smashing tin!’ He had taken some money from his money-box and had bought a bottle of lemonade and one of orangeade, and he also had two bottles full of water to use with the drinks.

Even Scamper had to carry something! He had one of his little rugs rolled up tightly and tied with string. He was carrying it in his mouth, feeling most important. He loved it when the children really let him take part in everything they were doing.

‘Wooooooof-woof,’ he said, with his mouth full of rug.

‘He says he likes to be carrying something like everyone else,’ said Janet. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Scamper?’

Scamper wagged his tail, and almost dropped his rug in his longing to bark properly. ‘Ooooof,’ he said.

The Seven set off down the path, came to Windy Woods, and made their way to their tree. ‘We ought to carve S.S. on the trunk, for Secret Seven,’ said Pam.

‘Well, we can’t,’ said Peter. ‘My father says that scribbling on walls and pavements and carving on trees is only done by idiots. And if anyone in the Secret Seven wants to be an idiot he can jolly well get out.’

‘I only said we ought to carve S.S.,’ said Pam, quite hurt. ‘I didn’t mean that we should. You know I’m not an idiot.’

‘Yes. I do know,’ said Peter. ‘I was only just telling you what my father said. Let’s make Scamper his little sentry-box place before we go up the tree.’

It was fun showing Scamper his ‘sentry-box’. He sniffed all round, and then sat down at the entrance, his mouth open as if he were smiling.

‘He’s pleased. He’s smiling,’ said Janet. ‘Come out, Scamper and we’ll put your rug in. Then you’ll know this is your own place—your sentry-box. And you’re the sentinel on guard. On Guard, Scamper. You know what that means, don’t you?’

‘Woof,’ said Scamper, and looked suddenly serious. He ran out.

Peter stuffed his rug into the hole. Then he dropped a bone there for Scamper, and then he put an old cap of his in the hole too.

‘On guard, Scamper,’ he said, pointing. ‘On guard, old fellow. Very important. Guard my cap for me till I come back. On guard!’

Scamper went back into the hole, sniffed solemnly at the cap, then at the bone. He turned round and sat himself upright at the entrance to the hole again looking important. Nothing would now make him leave his ‘sentry-box’ until Peter told him he might. He was a very, very good guard when he knew he had to be.

‘Now we can get on with our own job without old Scamper leaping round us and barking and getting in the way all the time,’ said Peter. ‘Let’s tie the boards and the rubber sheet to the ropes—then one of us can go up the tree with the rope-end, and pull the whole lot up at once.’

This seemed a very good idea, but wasn’t. Peter didn’t tie the ropes securely enough round the boards—and as Jack was hauling the package up the tree, a rope slipped and down came all the boards and the rubber sheet, bumping and slipping against the tree!

One board hit Colin on the shoulder, and the rubber sheet unfolded and fell neatly over Pam’s head. The others squealed with laughter as Pam yelled and struck out, wondering what had happened to her.

‘Oh dear—sorry!’ said Peter, pulling the sheet off poor Pam. ‘We’ll tie the things more firmly this time.’

‘You let me tie them,’ said Colin, rubbing his shoulder. ‘I’m not going to have a shower of heavy boards fall on me again!’

‘This is fun,’ said George. ‘This is really fun! I bet nobody ever had such fun making a tree-house before!’

Well Done Secret Seven

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