“What for?” asked Roger.
“You should never say ‘What for?’ to the captain,” said Titty.
“All right. I mean, aye, aye, sir. But if you hadn’t gone and said that I wouldn’t have made that waggle in our wake.”
“Count it my waggle,” said Titty. “That’s two, with the one I made myself. And you’ve made three, two in your last turn and one in this.”
“No quarrelling on deck,” said Captain Nancy in a growling voice from down on the bottom-boards, “or there’ll be keel-hauling and hanging from the yardarm.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty.
“Why didn’t you say ‘No, no, sir’?” asked Roger. “You meant ‘No.’”
“You think of your steering,” said Titty, “or you’ll make another waggle. You have. That’s two waggles in this turn. Let me have a try for a bit.”
“All right,” said Roger, “and I’ll talk.”
“You’re both wrong, really,” said Mate Peggy, lying on her back and looking up at the sky from the bottom of the boat. “You ought never to talk to the man at the wheel, and you’ve both been doing it.”
“But there isn’t a wheel,” said Roger.
*
The two little ships took the Rio passage, and John pointed out to mother the island with the landing-stage, where they had tied up and slept after beating to and fro in the dark a year ago.
“The night you were very nearly duffers?”
“Yes,” said John.
Then they were slipping across Rio Bay, outside the yacht moorings and close by the reeds where the natives anchor and fish.
“That’s the yard where they mended Swallow,” said John, and called out to Nancy in the other boat. Nancy was sitting up now and being the pilot, taking Amazon through the bay. Titty was steering. Both ships turned across towards the boatyards and sailed along close to that shore with its wooden jetties, and slipways, and sheds full of boats being built.
John sniffed the air.
“Yes, you can smell it. Tarred rope. Just sniff for a minute, mother.”
And mother sniffed and remembered that same smell drifting from the open doors of the little shops along the water front, and from the sailing ships in Australian harbours long ago.
A man who was looking at the new paintwork on a motor boat saw them passing, and called out to John, “Is she all right?”
“That’s the boatbuilder,” said John, and shouted back, “Better than ever. Thank you very much.”
“You made a good job of the mast between you,” the boatbuilder shouted back. “I had a good look at it, when we brought her down yesterday.”
They sailed on round the promontory and into Holly Howe Bay. Both vessels tied up to the jetty for a minute or two while mother and Bridget went ashore to go home to the farm for the night, and the able-seaman and the boy left the Amazon and rejoined their own ship.
“Good-bye, mother. Good-bye, Mrs Walker. Good-bye, Bridgie.”
Bridget, waving good-bye, nearly made a pierhead jump at the last moment without meaning it, if mother had not caught her in time.
“Come and see us on the island to-morrow night,” called Susan.
“Glook, glook,” said the best of all natives.
The little ships pushed off from the jetty and sailed out of the bay, close together, under the Peak of Darien.
*
Titty looked up at the Peak, remembering how last year they had watched the island day after day from the top of it, waiting for the telegram from daddy to say they might put to sea. She remembered how, day after day, they had watched the boats of natives fishing or rowing about, and how, when any boat went too near the island, they had been afraid that someone else was going to land there before they could. And then she remembered the finding of the fireplace when they landed there, and the coming of the Amazons who had made it. She remembered how first they had seen Peggy and Nancy, once their enemies and now their closest allies, and she looked happily across the water to the Amazon slipping quietly along beside the Swallow. And then, as they sailed on and left the Peak astern and could see into Houseboat Bay, she remembered their first sight of the retired pirate and the parrot.
“We’ll sail in to tell Uncle Jim how you won the race,” called Nancy, and the two ships changed course and headed directly for the houseboat.
“He isn’t there,” said Peggy a moment later. “There’s no flag up.”
“And there’s no rowing boat,” said Nancy.
The Swallow and the Amazon sailed close under the stern of the houseboat and Nancy and Peggy shouted “Houseboat ahoy!” but there was no answer.
“He had the launch with him this morning,” said John.
“Of course he had,” said Nancy. “That’s it. I was forgetting he’d have to go back to Beckfoot in her. He must have missed us going through the islands. Oh, well, never mind. We’ll tell him to-morrow.”
They sailed out of Houseboat Bay and now set a course a little west of south to take them straight to Horseshoe Cove.
“We don’t want to waste any time,” said Susan. “Let’s all get to bed early. It’ll take us all day to-morrow to get everything shifted across.”
They were well out in the middle of the lake, and more than half-way from Houseboat Bay to Cormorant Island, when Roger, who was being a look-out man, though, with his crutch, Mate Susan wouldn’t let him go before the mast, suddenly shouted, “Smoke, smoke! There’s smoke on Wild Cat Island.”
Peggy, in the Amazon, had seen it at the same moment, a thin cloud of blue smoke, drifting away from the trees. They would have seen it before if it had not been that the wind was northerly and was blowing the smoke away from them to the south of the island.
“Too late, too late!” wailed Titty. “Someone’s got it after all.”
“We ought to have taken it to-day instead of racing,” said John.
“We couldn’t,” said Susan. “We’d promised to go to Beckfoot.”
“There’s very little smoke,” said John. “Someone may just have boiled a kettle there and left his fire smouldering. Natives often do.”
Nancy Blackett took command.
“Don’t alter course more than a little at a time,” she said quietly across the water. “Don’t let them think we’ve seen it. We’ll sail on just as we are, working over a bit that way when we can. Keep a sharp look-out, everybody. There may be nobody there. We’ll make sure. It’s no good taking risks. There may be a whole crowd of them.”
“We can’t let them have it,” said Titty.
“We won’t,” said Nancy. “We’ll keep together, working over that way, as if we were sailing for pleasure. Don’t let them see that we’re taking any notice.”
“How would it be for one of us to go across towards Shark Bay and down the inner channel! You can see right into the camp from there.”
“It would give us away at once,” said Nancy. “They’d see that we’d come to look at them. No. We’ll keep together and work over that way, pretending we aren’t really altering course. Look here. There’s a steamer coming. We’ll change course the moment the steamer’s between us and the island.”
So it was done. The long passenger steamer churned up the lake, and while it was passing completely hid the Swallow and the Amazon from anyone who might be watching on the island. They changed course and headed east of south, and when the steamer had passed, there they were sailing, together as before. No one who had not been looking at them very carefully could have been sure that they had not been heading in that direction before the steamer had shut them out of sight.
“Shan’t we be able to go back to Wild Cat Island at all?” said Roger.
“Of course not, if there are a lot of strange natives on it,” said Titty. “There’s only room for one camp anyhow, and they’ll be using our fireplace.”
‘It may be just a fire someone’s left,” said Susan. “If it’s a fire that’s being used it’s funny there’s not more smoke.”
“
Hullo,” said John, “Nancy’s putting her centre-board down. She must be meaning to reach across below the island.”
A hoarse whisper came over the water.
“It’s so as to keep station and not run away from you. Any donkey’d know I was waiting for you if I go on monkeying about with my sail.”
Now that the centre-board was down, Amazon no longer moved faster than Swallow, in spite of the following wind. It was much easier now for the two ships to keep together.
“Can you see anyone there?” asked John.
“No. But there’s no doubt about the smoke.”
“Watch for a branch to move low down. Someone’s bound to stir the leaves if they’re looking out. Watch the clumps of heather along the edge of the rock.”
“There is someone there. There is someone there,” cried Titty, pushing the telescope into Susan’s hands. “There’s a lantern on our lighthouse tree.”
There it was, to be seen even without the telescope, hanging below the lofty branch at the top of the long straight stem of the tall pine at the north end of the island. Whoever was on the island meant to stay, or they would never have taken the trouble to climb those thirty feet of smooth trunk to hang a rope over the bough for hoisting the lantern to its place.
“That settles it,” said Captain Nancy. “They weren’t there this morning, or we’d have seen something. We mustn’t let them settle down. We must drive them out to-night. We must give them no sleep. We must scuttle their ships. We must drive them into the sea.”
“But how?” said John.
“I don’t believe they’re any good at being explorers or pirates or they’d be keeping a look-out. And I don’t think they are. Then, what galoots to leave the lantern up there not lit, instead of hoisting it up when they want it. They’re no good at camping, or they’d have a better fire. They probably haven’t discovered the harbour at all. They’re probably the sort of pigs who just eat sandwiches and leave paper about. They little know what’s coming to them.”
“I wish we had a cannon,” said Roger.
“Too much noise,” said Nancy. “We’ll creep on them like snakes and it’ll all be over before they’ve had time to open their mouths. Then we’ll spare their lives and let them get into their boats and row away. They’ll row away as fast as ever they can and never bother us again.”
It sounded very good, but there were misgivings in both ships. Supposing it wasn’t all over when the rightful discoverers of Wild Cat Island leapt out upon their enemies, what then? Still, there was nothing for it but to try, and no doubts were spoken aloud.
The two boats sailed on side by side, all the time edging over towards the eastern side of the lake. Cormorant Island was already astern. They were nearing the southern end of Wild Cat Island and still had seen no sign of anyone moving on it. But they had seen that lantern hanging from the tall pine, and wisps of smoke still kept blowing away out of the trees.
“Perhaps they’ve left a guard and sailed away, meaning to come back at night,” said Peggy.
“That would explain the lantern,” said John.
“It’ll be all the easier for us if they have,” said Nancy. She laughed. The others looked at her. They did not feel like laughing. Nancy explained. “I was remembering last year, and thinking we mustn’t make the mistake we made when we let your able-seaman capture our ship.”
They passed the southern end of the island.
“Haul your wind, Captain John,” said Nancy. “We’ll stand across till we can see into the harbour.”
Both steersmen put their helms down and hauled in on their mainsheets, and the Swallow and the Amazon, changing course once more, stood in as if for the harbour.
“Keep a look-out for anyone hiding among the rocks.”
Everybody was watching. Not a wagtail could have moved among those rocks without being seen. But nothing stirred.
“The harbour’s empty,” said Nancy, the moment she could see in. “They haven’t found it. Their boats must be at the old landing-place.”
She brought Amazon suddenly up into the wind.
“Not a yard farther,” she said, “or they might see us from the landing-place. I don’t believe they’ve spotted us at all. We’ll go into the harbour. Lower away, Peggy. Up with the centre-board. Out oars. Quietly now. Quietly! …”
John was doing exactly what he saw Nancy do, and now Titty and Susan were stowing the sail. Then, very quietly, John lifted the rudder inboard, put out an oar, and sculling over the stern brought Swallow through the channel between the rocks while Susan, watching the marks, warned him when they were out of line. Amazon had hardly touched before Swallow was slipping into the harbour beside her.
“Quietly,” said John. “Don’t let her bump.”
“Roger,” said Susan, “that’s a clean handkerchief. Don’t wipe the dirt off your crutch with it.”
“I’m not. I’m muffling the foot of my crutch, so it won’t make a noise on the stones. It’s ready now.”
He fended off with his crutch that now had a stout pad of handkerchief over its foot. He then hopped ashore, and stood there, propped on the crutch, holding Swallow from slipping back or grinding on the beach.
Nancy and Peggy were looking quickly here and there among the rocks round the harbour to make sure that no able-seaman of the enemy was lurking there to seize the ships. Titty, Susan, and John, one by one, joined Roger on the beach, when they lifted Swallow’s nose and hauled her up as silently as if they were pulling her out over cotton-wool instead of over hard stones.
“Let’s cut them off from the landing-place,” said John.
“No, no,” said Nancy. “We want them to take to their boats and go away. We’ll creep through the undergrowth above the western shore until we’re close to the camp. Have you got a whistle?”
“The mate has.”
“So has Peggy. Whistle when you hear her whistle, and then dash out for all you’re worth.”
“I can smell their fire,” said Titty.
“Listen.”
There was no noise at all.
“They may be asleep.”
“Or hogging. Come on, anyway.”
The Swallows and Amazons left the harbour and slipped into the undergrowth. Even the path was not the path it had been last year when Titty had trimmed it. Once more the honeysuckles and brambles had made it into a jungle track rather than a path. “It’s no wonder they didn’t find the harbour,” said Susan. “Lucky we hadn’t cleared the path before we were shipwrecked,” said John.
There was a whisper from close ahead. “Sh, sh!” and Nancy turned and waited. “Tents!” she said below her breath.
THE CHARGE
The others crept up to her. Through the trees and between the tops of the bushes they could see the pale flash of tents, more than one of them.
“They’ve put up their tents in our very camp,” said Titty bitterly.
“There’s nothing else for it,” hissed Nancy. “We’ve got to drive them out. If we don’t it’ll never be our island any more. Are you ready? Swallows and Amazons for ever! Mates, blow your whistles and COME ON!”
Two whistles sounded shrilly, and the whole party burst out through the bushes and charged with a yell into their ancient camping-ground. Five tents had been set up there, four small ones, where the Swallows’ tents had been before the shipwreck, and one large one, where the Amazons’ tent had been the year before. A sixth tent was behind the others, among the trees.
“They’ve got tents just like ours,” said Roger, as he swung desperately from foot to crutch and from crutch to foot, determined not to be last.
Nancy and Peggy charged at the big tent. The others rushed past the fireplace, across the open ground.
“But they are ours,” said Susan.
“Pretty Polly!” said a harsh voice.
The camp had no defenders. The fire in Susan’s old fireplace had burned very low, and at the farther side of the camp with his back propped against a tree, was Captain Flint, ju
st opening his eyes, while the ship’s parrot, perched beside him on one of the roots of the tree, was trying to pull his pipe to pieces.
“Hullo,” said Captain Flint, “what time is it? I sat down for a minute to play with old Polly. Hot work, you know, shifting all these things down to the launch, and that tree takes some climbing, too. Why, what on earth’s the matter with you all?”
The Swallows and Amazons looked at each other.
“Oh, nothing,” said Captain Nancy. “We mistook you for somebody else.”
*
Captain Flint stretched himself, and felt for his pipe.
“Back at your old tricks again, eh, Polly? I must have been asleep.”
“Fast asleep,” said Roger.
“And did you bring the whole caboodle across by yourself?” asked Nancy.
“Mary Swainson helped, and a young man, a friend of hers who seemed to have a day off.”
“I expect Peter Duck lent a hand,” said Titty, “with the things in his cave.”
“He must have done,” said Captain Flint, “but I may have put the wrong bags in the wrong tents or something like that at this end. Mary Swainson’s going to have another look round up there, and if anything’s left she’ll bring it down to the farm.”
“Let’s go across to-morrow and make her come to tea,” said Titty.
“There’s another hole coming in my knickerbockers,” said Roger.
“But whatever made you think of doing it?” asked Nancy.
“Well,” said Captain Flint, “it was just as well to make sure of your island, and besides that there’ll be grouse-shooting all over those moors to-morrow, and both your mothers seemed to think you’d be best out of the way.”
“So that was why they hadn’t put a place for you at the feast,” said Nancy. “But you haven’t asked who won the race. We lost, if you want to know.”
“I thought Swallow had a good chance when I saw you go into Rio Bay while John went up the other side of the islands.”
“But you don’t know what John did with her at the end.”
Swallowdale Page 37
