by Enid Blyton
He looked comical standing there, flapping like that. The children had to turn away, trying not to laugh. ‘He says tomorrow we shall see the butterfly valley,’ said Jack. ‘Good! It ought to be a real sight, if it’s anything like I imagine it to be!’
They had a meal and prepared to camp out again. The evening was not so fine as the day. It had clouded over and there was no sunset to watch, and no stars to come gleaming out, one by one.
‘If it rains, you’ll get wet, David,’ said Jack. David shrugged his shoulders and said something in his Welsh voice, then wrapped himself in his rug on the bare ground.
‘It won’t rain,’ said Philip, looking at the sky. ‘But it’s much colder. Brrrrr! I’ll be glad of my sleeping-bag tonight.’
‘Good night!’ called the girls. ‘Sleep well.’
‘Good night! It will be a lovely day again tomorrow! You just see!’ called back Philip, who thought himself a good weather forecaster.
But he was wrong. When they awoke the next morning, they looked out on a completely different world!
9
A different world
Lucy-Ann awoke first. She was cold. She snuggled down into her sleeping-bag, and then opened her eyes. She stared out of the open tent-flap, expecting to see the green mountain-side, and the distant mountains towering up into the sky.
But they weren’t there! Instead, a white mist swirled past the tent-flap, some of it putting thin cold fingers into the tent itself.
There was nothing to see at all except this mist. The mountains had gone, the trees by the camp were blotted out, even the donkeys couldn’t be seen.
‘What’s happened?’ said Lucy-Ann, astonished. ‘Golly! It’s a thick mist come up!’
She awoke Dinah and the girls peered out in dismay at the misty mountain-side. Now and again a tiny bit of view could be seen as the mist thinned a little – but it grew thick again at once.
‘It’s a cloud,’ said Dinah. ‘You know how we see clouds resting on mountain-tops – well, this is one. It’s resting on us! It’s like a thick fog we can’t see through. Blow!’
The boys woke up then and the girls could hear their dismayed voices. They called to them.
‘Jack! Philip! Isn’t this sickening! We can’t see a thing!’
‘It may clear when we’ve had breakfast,’ said Philip cheerfully, appearing out of the mist with Snowy at his heels. ‘Gosh, it’s chilly! I’m going to put on a warm jersey.’
David also appeared, looking very doleful. He swung his arm out towards the valley and poured out a torrent of Welsh.
‘He’s quite excited about it, isn’t he?’ said Jack. ‘I wish I could follow him when he talks like that. I just don’t understand a word.’
They decided to have breakfast in one of the tents because the mist made everything damp and chilly. David preferred to stay outside. Dinah didn’t want to come into the tent because of Sally, and only agreed to if she was allowed to sit in the doorway, ready to escape if the slow-worm appeared.
It was not so cheerful a meal as usual. The children missed the magnificent view they had been used to, and were afraid perhaps David wouldn’t take them on their way that day. But the mist cleared a little in an hour’s time, and David seemed quite willing to go.
They loaded up the donkeys, mounted and set off down the track. They could see some way ahead of them now, for the sun was rising higher, and trying to dissolve the mist with its heat.
‘It’ll be all right,’ said Jack. ‘I almost caught sight of the sun then!’
But then the mist came down again and it was only just possible to see the donkey in front.
‘I feel as if I ought to hold your donkey’s tail, in case you disappear in the mist!’ shouted Jack to Dinah. ‘You know – like elephants do in circuses when they come into the ring all holding on to one another’s tails!’
The mist thickened even more, and the little company stopped to discuss what to do. It was difficult to get anything intelligible out of David, who seemed suddenly to have forgotten any English words he knew.
Jack flapped his arms, raised his eyebrows and pointed in front of him, meaning to ask if they were near the Butterfly Valley. David understood, but he hesitated.
‘I hope he hasn’t lost the way,’ said Jack to Philip. ‘He seemed sure enough of the direction yesterday – now he doesn’t seem very certain. Blow!’
‘Well, we can’t stop here,’ said Dinah, shivering in the clammy mist. ‘There’s no shelter and it’s jolly cold. Oh for the sun again!’
‘Ride on!’ said Jack to David. ‘It’s the only thing to do till we find some kind of shelter. It’s too cold to hang about till the mist has gone. If we go the wrong way we can turn back and go right when the mist goes.’
So they went on, following David’s donkey through the wet mist. Kiki was very silent. She didn’t understand the mist and was afraid of it. Snowy kept close to Philip’s donkey and was not nearly so full of spring and liveliness. Everyone disliked the mist thoroughly.
‘When we find a sheltered place we’ll stop for lunch,’ said Philip. ‘I’m sure we’re all getting frightfully hungry now, but we seem to be on quite a bare bit of mountain-side, hopeless to picnic in. We’d all be down with colds tomorrow!’
They ambled on, nose to tail, pulling their jerseys close, glad of their coats too. Jack began to look rather worried. He stopped his donkey and went to walk beside Philip’s.
‘What’s up?’ said Philip, seeing Jack’s serious face.
‘We’ve left the track,’ said Jack. ‘Haven’t you noticed? We’ve followed some kind of track up till an hour or two back – but now I’m pretty certain we’ve lost it. Goodness knows where David’s heading for. I doubt if he’s even noticed we’re not on any track at all.’
Philip whistled. ‘Don’t let the girls hear you. They’ll be scared. Yes, you’re right. There’s not the vestige of a track here. David’s lost the way.’
‘Better ask him,’ said Jack and rode to the front of the line. ‘Is this the right way?’ he asked David slowly, so as to be understood. ‘Where is the track?’ He pointed downwards to the ground.
David was looking solemn too. He shrugged his shoulders and said something in his sing-song voice. Jack rode back to Philip.
‘I think he knows he’s off the track, but he’s hoping to pick it up further on. Anyway he doesn’t seem inclined to stop or go back.’
‘Well – he’s our guide,’ said Philip, after a pause. ‘We’ll have to trust him. He knows these mountains better than we do.’
‘Yes. But he’s so shy,’ said Jack. ‘He wouldn’t be able to tell us we were lost. I wouldn’t put it past him to go on losing us deeper and deeper in these mountains, once he’d begun! He just wouldn’t know what else to do.’
‘What a horrible idea!’ said Philip. ‘Good thing we’ve got so much food with us, if that’s what he means to do!’
They came at last to a big outcrop of rocks, which would give them shelter from the wet, chilly wind. ‘Better have a meal here,’ said Philip. ‘I’d like something hot to drink. Did Mrs Evans put in a kettle?’
‘Yes. If we can find a stream or spring, we’ll build a little fire and boil some water for cocoa or something,’ said Jack.
But there was no spring and no stream. It was most annoying.
‘Considering the dozens we’ve passed this morning, and waded through, I call it a bit hard that there’s not even a tiny one here,’ said Dinah. ‘I’m jolly thirsty too.’
They had to have a meal without anything to drink. They were very hungry, and the food seemed to warm them a little. They played a game of Catch to get themselves thoroughly warm after the meal. David looked as if he thought they had gone mad. Snowy joined in wildly neatly tripping everyone up. Kiki rose in the air and screamed.
‘Look at David’s face! He thinks we’re all crazy!’ giggled Lucy-Ann. She sank down on a rock. ‘Oh, I can’t run any more. I’ve got a stitch in my side.’
‘
Stitchinmyside, stitchinmyside,’ chanted Kiki, running all the words together. ‘Pop goes the weasel!’
‘The mist’s clearing! Hurrah!’ suddenly cried Jack, and he pointed upwards. The sun could quite clearly be seen, struggling to get through the clouds of mist.
Everyone cheered up at once. Even David looked less dismal. ‘Let’s try to get to the Butterfly Valley before the evening,’ said Jack to David, doing the flapping business vigorously to make sure David understood. David nodded.
They mounted the donkeys again and set off once more. They could see much further in front of them now. Quite a big stretch of mountain-side was spread before them. The world suddenly seemed a much bigger place.
They rode on steadily. The mist thinned more and more rapidly, and the children felt the heat of the sun on their heads. They took off their coats, revelling in the warmth, after the chilliness of the mist.
‘Look – we can see the nearest mountain-tops now,’ called Jack. ‘And the distant ones will soon be uncovered too. Thank goodness!’
‘We ought to see the Vale of Butterflies soon,’ said Lucy-Ann, eagerly. ‘David said we’d get there today. I wonder where it is. Look, there’s a butterfly, Philip.’
Philip glanced at it. ‘Only a meadow-brown,’ he said. ‘We’ve seen heaps of those.’ He looked before him searchingly and then put his field-glasses to his eyes.
‘There’s a valley which might be it,’ he said, pointing. ‘Hey, David! Is that the Vale of Butterflies?’
David looked where Philip was pointing. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Iss. No,’ he said.
‘Yes, no! Whatever does he mean by that?’ said Philip in disgust. ‘I suppose, in plain English, he means he hasn’t the faintest idea. Well, we’ll go on and hope for the best. It looks a nice sheltered kind of valley, the sort that might be hot enough for all kinds of insects and flowers.’
Picturing a perfect paradise of brilliant flowers and equally brilliant butterflies, the children rode on and on down towards the valley in the far distance. It was much further than they thought. That was the worst of travelling in mountains. Everywhere was about twice as far as you imagined it to be. Most disappointing!
It was late when they rode into the valley, which was really more of a shallow depression between two high mountains than a real lowland valley. Certainly it was sheltered, and certainly it had more flowers in it than they had so far seen – but there were no butterflies!
‘This can’t be it!’ said Philip in disappointment. ‘Is it, David?’
David shook his head. He was looking round in a puzzled manner, and it was quite clear that he really didn’t know where he was.
‘If this is not the butterfly place, where is it?’ asked Jack slowly and clearly. David shook his head again. It was really maddening, not being able to speak Welsh.
‘Well,’ said Philip, ‘he’s brought us the wrong way, to a place he doesn’t know, but it’s quite warm and sheltered, so we’ll make the best of it tonight. Tomorrow we’ll get the map from David, see if we can find out the way, and set off with ourselves as guides. He’s as much use as Kiki to guide us in these mountains!’
They set up their camp again, feeling rather disappointed. They had so hoped to come to the place they wanted that night, and set up camp properly for a few days, to revel in hordes of common and uncommon butterflies. Now they would have to ride on still further, and goodness knew if they would ever find it!
They crawled into their sleeping-bags and called good night, just as the stars gleamed out. David was sleeping as usual outside.
But in the night the boys woke up suddenly. David was crawling into their tent. He was trembling with fright. ‘Noises,’ he said, in English, and then poured out something in Welsh. He was very frightened. ‘Sleep here,’ he said, and crept between the boys. They were amused and puzzled.
Whatever could have scared David so much?
10
A disturbing night
The sun was shining brightly when the camp awoke next day. It made them all feel cheerful and lively. Snowy, who had resented David sleeping with Philip and Jack the night before, and had butted him continually, bounded about lightly everywhere, butting David whenever he met him.
‘What happened to you last night, David?’ asked Jack, when they were all having a meal. ‘Why were you so frightened?’
‘Noises,’ said David.
‘What sort?’ asked Philip curiously. ‘We didn’t hear any.’
David made some surprising noises that sent Kiki sailing into the air and Snowy bounding away in fright. The children stared at David in astonishment.
By means of odd words and gestures David managed to convey to the children that he had gone to see if the donkeys were all right in the night, and had heard these noises near by where they were tethered.
‘That explains why we didn’t hear them, I suppose,’ said Jack. ‘David makes them sound like animal noises – fierce and savage!’
Lucy-Ann looked scared. ‘Oh! You don’t think there are wild animals anywhere about here, do you, Jack? I mean, fierce wild animals?’
Jack grinned. ‘Well, if you are thinking of lions and tigers and panthers and bears, I think I can say you needn’t be afraid of finding those here. But if, like Dinah, you include snakes, foxes, hedgehogs and so on in your list of fierce wild animals, then I should say, look out!’
‘Don’t be silly, Jack. Of course I don’t mean those,’ said Lucy-Ann. ‘I don’t quite know what I did mean. I just felt scared – and wondered what animal had made the noises David heard.’
‘Probably his own imagination,’ said Philip. ‘Or a bad dream. That could scare him.’
David did not seem to want to go any further. He kept pointing back over the way they had come. But the children were not going to let their trip come to such a disappointing end. They meant to go and find the Butterfly Valley, if it took them all week! There was a lot of flapping to make David understand this.
He turned even more silent, but mounted his donkey to go with them. Jack now had the map, and examined it very carefully. It was annoying that the Butterfly Valley wasn’t marked. Perhaps very few people knew about it.
They all set off across the valley and up into the mountains again. Perhaps the next valley would be the one they wanted, or the one after that. But although they travelled hopefully all the day, they did not find any valley full of butterflies. The children began to think it was all a fairy-tale.
There was no track to follow now, though they kept a keen look-out in case they should come across one again. When they camped that night, they discussed what they had better do next.
‘If we go on any further we shan’t know our way back,’ said Jack. ‘David would, perhaps, because he was born and bred among mountains, and, like a dog, could follow his own trail well enough, if we had to go back. But he’s lost us once and I don’t like to trust him too much. I wouldn’t be surprised if he lost the way going back, if we take him much further!’
‘Had we better go back then?’ asked Lucy-Ann in disappointment.
‘Or camp here for a few days,’ said Jack, looking round. ‘It’s quite a good place.’
They were halfway up a steep mountain that rose very sharply from where they were, and looked quite unclimbable.
‘What a peculiar mountain!’ said Dinah, gazing up. ‘I shouldn’t think anyone ever climbed that to the top. It’s all crags and rocks and jutting-out bits.’
‘We’ll camp here,’ decided Philip. ‘The weather looks quite settled. There’s a spring near by. We can mess about with our cameras and field-glasses.’
They told David. He did not seem pleased, but went off to tether the donkeys for the night. They were all tired that evening, children and donkeys both, for they had had a very long day. They cut the big ham that Mrs Evans had provided for them, afraid that it might go bad if they didn’t eat it soon.
David looked as if he thought he would sleep in the tent again that night, for he cast variou
s longing glances in that direction. However, the night was hot, and he felt he couldn’t bear to be under cover. So he arranged himself under his rug in the open, fairly near to the two tents. The donkeys were some way away, tethered to trees by long ropes.
That night there was a snuffling around the camp. Lucy-Ann awoke suddenly and heard it. She went right down to the bottom of her sleeping-bag, frightened. What could it be? Was it the wild animal that David had heard?
Then she heard a howl! The boys heard it too, and awoke. David, outside, was awake, having heard both the noises. He was shivering with fright, all kinds of fears coming into his mind at once.
The moon was up and everywhere was silvery bright. David sat up and looked down the hill. What he saw made his hair rise straight up on his head.
Wolves! A pack of wolves! No, no, it couldn’t be wolves! He was dreaming! Wolves had not been known in the mountains for hundreds of years. But if those creatures were not wolves, what were they? And that noise of snuffling he had heard. That must have been a wolf too! No, not a wolf. It couldn’t have been such a thing.
David sat there, hugging his knees, his mind going round and round – wolves or not? Wolves or not? What were they doing near the donkeys?
Another howl came – half a howl, half a bark, a horrible noise. David shot into the boys’ tent and gave them a terrible start.
He stammered something in Welsh, and then in English, ‘Wolves!’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jack at once, seeing that the man was badly scared. ‘You’ve had a bad dream.’
David dragged him to the tent opening and pointed with a trembling finger to where the pack of snuffling animals stood, not far from the donkeys.
The boys stared as if they could not believe their eyes. They certainly looked like wolves! Jack felt a cold shiver down his back. Good gracious! Was he dreaming? Those creatures were more like wolves than anything else!
Snowy the kid was trembling as much as David was. The trembling somehow made the boys feel scared too. The only person who was not in the least scared was Kiki.
