John found her and tugged at her sleeve.
“Come along,” he shouted. “We thought you’d gone on already.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty, though John could not hear her, and they joined Nancy on the path and went back to the tent together.
“Well,” said Susan, “if you were wet before, you’re a lot wetter now. And nothing to change into.”
“It was worth it,” said Titty.
“Were the boats all right?” asked Roger.
“Couldn’t be snugger,” said Captain Nancy. “But their crews will have a lot of baling to do in the morning.”
“What’s the time now?” said Peggy. “Susan says it’s only about three.”
“It’s nearly five,” said John.
*
Nobody could go to sleep. They became shipwrecked sailors.
“Both our masts went by the board,” said Captain Nancy.
“And before that the mizen was struck by lightning,” said Captain John.
“Did you see the blue lights flickering on the ends of the spars?” said Nancy. “That was before the mizen was struck.”
“Then we started a plank,” said John, “and the water poured in.”
“The mate came running on deck shouting, ‘All hands to the pumps, five feet of water in the hold.’ That was you, Susan,” said Nancy.
“Why not me?” said Peggy.
“You were the second mate. You were cutting the wreckage adrift and making a raft. No, you weren’t. We didn’t make a raft. I forgot. You were cutting the wreckage adrift to clear the decks, and seeing to the lowering of the boats.”
“One boat was called Swallow and the other was called Amazon,” said Roger.
“And the waves were breaking over the ship,” said Titty, “and she was going down by the head with every soul on board. Someone had killed an albatross.”
“Pieces of eight, pieces of eight,” shouted the parrot.
“Yes. She was full of them,” said Titty. “That’s what made her sink so fast.”
“We launched the boats,” said Nancy, “and then the ship went down and we were alone on the deep.”
“Sometimes in the waves we could not see each other,” said John, “but sometimes we could.”
“We had no food in the boats but a biscuit each and a little water,” said Susan.
“Day after day we ran before the storm,” said Nancy. “Northwest by north was our course. We had decided it before we left the ship.”
“We ate the biscuits and drank the water,” said Peggy.
“It blew and thundered and lightened and rained without stopping,” said Titty, “and Roger and I were baling Swallow and Peggy was baling Amazon.”
“Then the rain stopped, and for days and days we had nothing to eat and nothing to drink,” said Nancy.
“In Swallow we were going to draw lots who was to be eaten first,” said Titty.
“We were coming to that when we sighted land,” said Nancy.
“We sighted land too, just in time,” said Roger.
“There were great breakers on the beach,” said Nancy.
“We only saw the land when there was a flash of lightning,” said Titty. “Palm trees waving like anything.”
“There was lightning all the time,” said Nancy. “We ran on between the breakers. Our boats were capsized and we clung to them. They were thrown far up the beach by the waves. We were battered but saved.”
“So was the parrot,” said Titty. “And now we shall be here for twenty years. Every day we shall watch for a passing ship.”
“But how have we got a tent?” said Roger.
“Luckily there was one in one of the boats,” said Nancy. “I say, Peggy, what about a round of chocolate? There’s still a lot left.”
*
At last it began to grow light outside. For some time the thunder had been lagging after the lightning. After a flash it was a long time before the rumbling of the thunder began far away. The wind dropped. The noise of the rain on the tent grew less and less and came to an end. The dawn came up behind the eastern hills. The light of the lantern no longer filled the tent. Light was coming in from outside, through the canvas. The Swallows and Amazons went out into the early morning to look at the wreck of their camp. Patches of blue sky were showing overhead and patches of sunlight on the hills. Ragged clouds were blowing away. There was a wonderful smell of wet earth. The storm was over.
John went back into the tent to tap the barometer. It was going up.
Susan began raking the sodden ashes out of the fireplace. Nancy brought out her bundle of dry sticks. All the rest of the firewood was dripping wet, and it took them a long time to get their fire going. Without the dry sticks they could never have done it. Titty burrowed into what had been her tent and the mate’s, and brought out the parrot’s blue cloth and hung it on two sticks to dry.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE SAILORS’ RETURN
AND THEN CAME the natives.
The first to arrive was Mrs. Dixon. Just as the fire was beginning to burn the shipwrecked sailors saw her coming down the field from the farm above Shark Bay, with a milk-can in one hand and a big bucket in the other. And there was Mr. Dixon coming too, with a pair of oars over his shoulder. Mr. Dixon baled their boat and pushed it out and rowed Mrs. Dixon across to the island, splashing as he rowed. Though the wind had gone down there were still waves on the lake, even between the island and the shore.
“Whatever can they want?” said Nancy.
Peggy and Titty had gone up to the look-out point to look at the lake. They came running back into the camp.
“Captain Flint’s coming,” shouted Peggy. “He’s nearly here, and there’s another rowing boat, and there’s a launch in the distance. I think it’s ours.”
“Mother’s in the other rowing boat, with a native,” said Titty.
“If it’s the launch, our mother’s in it, I bet you anything,” said Nancy.
“There are still quite big waves down the lake,” said Titty, “but Mother’s got past them all right.”
Everybody ran down to the landing-place, and got there just as Mr. Dixon stepped out and pulled his boat up. Mrs. Dixon clambered out with her big bucket and the milk-can. She had a tray over the top of the bucket for a lid, and steam was coming from under it.
“No. It isn’t pigwash,” she said, “though you might think it. It’s porridge for drowned rats, which is what I reckoned you’d be. You’ve done well to get your fire lit at all. I could hardly rest for thinking of you in that storm. My word, how it did come down. And so you found Mr. Turner’s box that was stolen. And I thought it was you that took it. Dixon told me the news when he came from the village last night.”
The Swallows and Amazons looked at each other. Did everybody know everything?
“Porridge,” said Roger.
“Aye, porridge,” said Mrs. Dixon. “There’s no room in anybody for a cold if they’re full up with hot porridge, so I always say. Have you any spoons?”
“Lots.”
“I’ll just slop the milk into the bucket and give it a stir round. I put the sugar in up at the farm.”
In another minute the four Swallows and the two Amazons were spooning hot porridge and milk out of the bucket and feeling each mouthful go scalding down their throats.
“This really is eating out of the common dish,” said Titty.
Then came Captain Flint.
“Good for you, Mrs. Dixon,” were his first words. “I ought to have thought of that. Porridge was the very thing. One, two, three, four, five, six. That’s all right. Nobody washed away in the night.”
“Seven,” said Titty. “You’ve forgotten my parrot. He said ‘Pretty Polly’ at the lightning and ‘Pieces of eight’ when it thundered.”
“Seven,” said Captain Flint. “And two of the tents gone, I see. I was afraid they would. It was a wild go while it lasted. It was tough work bucketing into it even now, though the wind’s dropped and the lake’s no
thing to what it was. It settles very quickly.”
Then came Mother from Holly Howe, rowed by that powerful native, Mr. Jackson. She had brought three big thermos flasks full of boiling cocoa.
“Good morning, Mrs. Dixon,” she said. “That was very kind of you, to think of coming across. I was afraid they’d not be able to get their fire lit.”
“It’s a wonder they have,” said Mrs. Dixon.
“We haven’t been able to boil a kettle yet,” said Susan. “We couldn’t have lit it at all if Nancy hadn’t thought of keeping some sticks dry.”
“And you are the Amazons?” said Mother, looking at Nancy and Peggy.
“Yes,” said Nancy, “and this is Captain Flint. His other name is Turner.”
“How do you do?” said Mother, and Captain Flint said how sorry he was he had not made friends with the Swallows before. “You don’t know how much I owe to these children,” he said.
“Children!” snorted Nancy Blackett.
“Explorers and pirates,” Captain Flint corrected himself. “If it hadn’t been for them I should have lost all the work I’ve done this summer.”
“I heard something about it last night from Mrs. Jackson,” said Mother. “I’m sure I’m very glad they’ve been of some use. Their father seems to think they are not duffers, but sometimes I’m not so sure.”
“Mother!” said John, and Mother laughed.
“He’s given me a parrot,” said Able-seaman Titty, and Mother had to go and look at it.
“He’s going to give me a monkey,” said Roger.
“What?” said Mother.
Captain Flint explained, and Mother said that it must be a very little one.
“It shall be, ma’am,” said Captain Flint.
Mother looked at the wrecked tents.
“They’re no good in a wind,” she said. “I remember once in the bush … I was in a tent like that and it ripped to ribbons and was blown clean away.… Well,” she said, “it’s a good thing you haven’t got to sleep in them tonight, and a pity you didn’t come home yesterday.”
“I can hardly think so, ma’am,” said Captain Flint.
“We wouldn’t have found the treasure if we had,” said Titty.
“The first thing to do is to put on some dry clothes,” said Mother. “I’ve brought a dry change for each of you four.”
“Roger never got wet,” said Susan.
“That’s a good thing,” said Mother, “but you did, and so did John, and Titty looks like a dishcloth. Run down to the boat and ask Mr. Jackson for that bundle.”
Then came the launch, chug, chugging in to the landing-place, and running its nose gently aground close by the three boats that were already there. The landing-place was so crowded that it was almost as bad as Rio Bay. Captain Flint ran down there to meet the launch, and Mrs. Blackett jumped ashore into her brother’s arms. She was a very little woman, not really much bigger than Nancy, and very like her. In the native talk that followed, her tongue went fastest. Captain Flint and Mrs. Walker just put in a word sometimes.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Mrs. Blackett said to Captain Flint. “Now then, Ruth …”
“Nancy, when she’s a pirate, my dear,” said Captain Flint. “Give her her right name.”
“Nancy then, and Peggy, skip into the launch, you harum-scarums, and get into dry things. You’ll find them in the cabin. How do you do, Mrs. Walker? You’ve met my brother, I see. And my wild young ones. And so these are the Swallows who turned out to be so much better than somebody thought they were.”
She too had heard the news, even though she lived at the other side of the lake from Rio.
“Well,” said Mrs. Dixon, “I think I’ll be going now, if you’ve done with that bucket. I’ve the chickens to feed, and Dixon’ll be wanting to get to his sheep.”
Both the mothers and Captain Flint and all the Swallows and Amazons thanked her for bringing such a good breakfast.
“Aye, there’s nothing like porridge,” said Mrs. Dixon. “Well, I suppose I shan’t be seeing any of you in the morning. I shall quite miss it. I’ve come to be in the way of looking for you. But perhaps you’ll be coming again next year.”
“Every year. For ever and ever,” said Titty.
“Aye,” said Mrs. Dixon, “we all think that when we’re young.”
Mr. Dixon, who was waiting down by the boat, had said “Good morning,” when he came, and now he said “Good day to you,” as he rowed Mrs. Dixon away. He was always a very silent native.
The others were not. They talked and talked, all native talk, about the storm and the burglary. Sometimes they asked questions which the Amazons found a little difficult to answer, though Captain Flint helped them out. Even Mr. Jackson, the powerful strong native from Holly Howe, wanted to know exactly how the Swallows had found the box.
At last the native talk began to slacken.
“What about packing up?” said Mrs. Blackett to the Amazons. “You can put everything in the launch, and come in it with me, and we can tow the Amazon.”
“Tow Amazon!” said Nancy in horror. “We’re coming home under sail. We want no salvage.”
“Everything’s so wet here,” said the mother of the Swallows. “You’d better come back with me to Holly Howe.”
“Not now,” begged Titty. “We’re quite dry, and we’ve got a whole tin of pemmican left, and lots of bunloaf, and it’s our last day.”
It would have been very dreadful to be swept home in a flood of natives, even of the nicest sort. Half the pleasure of visiting distant countries is sailing home afterwards. Besides, she had to say goodbye to the island. John, Susan, and Roger also begged to be allowed to stay. Nancy and Peggy flatly refused to go.
“What if it comes on to blow again?” said the Swallows’ mother.
Here Captain Flint spoke.
“It’s not going to do that,” he said. “It was just the first of our autumn thunderstorms. It’s blown itself out now, and I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s a dead calm before evening. It may rain again tomorrow, but I’ll almost guarantee good weather for today.”
And so it was agreed. Everything not wanted for the day was to be packed into Mr. Jackson’s boat if it was to go to Holly Howe, and into the launch if it belonged to the Amazons. The launch would tow Mr. Jackson and his boat as far as the Holly Howe bay, so that the two mothers could be together in the cabin. “We have a lot more to say to each other,” said Mrs. Blackett.
“About coming next year?” said Peggy and Titty together.
“Perhaps,” said their mothers.
The packing of Mr. Jackson’s boat came first. Captain Flint lent a hand, and it did not take long. The sodden tents were rolled up. “I’ll spread them to dry after,” said Mr. Jackson. The blankets were stuffed into a sack. Nancy wanted to empty the hay out of the haybags to make a last blaze on the camp fire. “Nay,” said Mr. Jackson, “it’s good hay that.” So it was spared to be eaten by cows. All the Swallows’ things were stowed in Jackson’s boat. Nothing was left but the big kettle, for making tea, stores for the day, the parrot-cage, and John’s tin box.
“You don’t want that,” said Mother.
“It’s got the ship’s papers in it,” said Captain John.
“We’ll keep our tent,” said Captain Nancy, “but we shan’t want our sleeping-bags and things.”
At last the natives were ready to go.
Captain Flint said “Goodbye.”
“Are you going too?” said Titty.
“I’m going in the launch with the others,” he said. “I’ve something to say to your mother about next year. And I’ve a lot to do, for I’m going to London tomorrow. There’s that monkey to see about, you know. But I’ll keep a look-out for you towards evening.”
At last the launch chug, chugged away from the island, with the two rowing boats towing astern, Captain Flint’s on a short painter, and Mr. Jackson’s on a long one, from the port and starboard quarters. The natives waved as the launch moved off.
“Goodbye, Swallows,” called Mrs. Blackett. “I shall expect you others when I see you.”
“Don’t be late,” called Mother. “If you’re home by seven, I’ll bring Vicky down to the boathouse. She’d like to meet the sailors coming home from sea with a parrot. Goodbye, Amazons.”
“Goodbye, goodbye,” called Nancy and Peggy. “You will promise to come again next year?”
“We’ll come,” said Mother.
*
After they were gone the Swallows and Amazons looked at each other. They were rather glum.
“It’s the natives,” said Nancy. “Too many of them. They turn everything into a picnic.”
“Mother doesn’t,” said Titty.
“Nor does ours when she’s alone,” said Nancy.
“And Captain Flint’s not a bit like a native when he’s by himself,” said Titty.
“It’s when they all get together,” said Nancy. “They can’t help themselves, poor things.”
“Well, they’ve gone now,” said Peggy. “Let’s go on with the shipwreck. This is the day after we were thrown ashore. Now we’ve got to settle down for twenty years to watch for passing sails.”
“But we’re going home this afternoon,” said Roger.
“You needn’t say so,” said Titty.
But it was no good. Everybody knew, and nobody could get back into the old mood.
“We ought to bale the ships,” said John.
That was better. It was something that had to be done. There was a lot of water in both the ships. The wet thwarts were steaming and drying in the sun, which was already hot, but the sails were very wet. They hoisted the sails to dry them, and then went back to the camp.
The camp looked much smaller. There were pale, unhealthy patches where the Swallows’ tents had stood and bleached the grass under the groundsheets by hiding it from the sun. The Amazons’ tent stood alone and forlorn without its companions.
“Come on,” said Nancy. “We’ve got to take it down anyway – to strike it, I mean – so we may as well set about it.”
Swallows and Amazons Page 30
