The Happy Mariners Page 8

  ‘If we have a ring,’ he said, ‘we shall never have enough to keep it alight with.’

  ‘All right then,’ answered Guy. ‘I dare say two will be enough. After all, we’ve got guns.’

  ‘But no ammunition,’ remarked Rex coolly. ‘Phineas has that, except what we left in the longboat.’

  ‘Have to do without it then.’ Guy was determined to be cheerful. He ran to and fro with his sticks. ‘We must have a huge pile, you know. It’s got to last till morning. I wonder how long that’ll be.’

  They worked in silence for ten minutes. The pile of brushwood grew higher. Presently Rex said: ‘I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you, young Guy, that we’ve got to light this stuff?’

  ‘Of course, you ass! That’s the idea of collecting it, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, how can we light a fire without matches?’

  Guy stared at his brother in astonishment. ‘You mean to say you haven’t brought any matches with you?’

  ‘Well, as a matter of fact,’ said Rex, ‘I have. But you didn’t know, did you? You jolly well hadn’t thought of it. And I should get in a fine row with Father if he knew.’

  The fact is that Rex was very thirsty, and, being the eldest, he felt a weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. These two things combined were quite enough to make him a bit quarrelsome. Guy paid no attention to him, for Guy at that moment was gazing interestedly at what looked like a smooth mottled fragment of branch lying in his path. When he put out his hand to pick it up—it was a sleek hissing snake! Guy, having no kind of weapon within reach, sprang back with a cry of alarm. Rex came running up at once.

  ‘Hullo, what’s up?’

  ‘Mind yourself,’ said Guy. ‘A snake! Look out!’

  Rex seized his musket by the muzzle and made ready to club the snake. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘I think it’s gone now,’ said Guy. ‘No, there it is!’

  ‘It doesn’t like us much, does it?’ remarked Rex. ‘Well, we’d better get this fire going at once.’

  During the last ten minutes, while the two boys had been gathering fuel for their fires, the forest had changed from dusk—the air a dark green veil, the shadows purple—to a hollow loneliness empty of all light. With the lighting of the fires a new forest danced into being. Smoke drifted up in thick dove-grey clouds; a glittering tinsel was thrown on nearer objects; the light of the flames struggled with the darkness; and distant shapes, as you stared at them, emerged from their shadowy background and became recognizable as trees, as bushes—yes, and sometimes as a prowling beast of prey, a spotted yellow thing, lithe and sinuous, baring its cruel fangs and sniffing the human scent. Only just in time, thought the boys with a shudder. Elizabeth and Martin were still fast asleep, and the sentries spoke only in whispers. Now that everything was done that they could do, they had time to taste lingeringly, to turn over on the tongue, this queer and rich experience in which fear and delight were almost equally mingled. The crackle of the burning wood and the burble of the leaping flames made together a comforting little noise, but behind the noise the boys were conscious of the vast silence of the forest, and alert to hear the least little sound that occurred to break that silence. And now, during these long hours of vigil, the forest was full of such things, each a mystery and an excitement, each a crisis, each a story in itself. The rustle of a leaf—what had made it rustle? A twig snapping—what had broken it? A stirring in the undergrowth, the whir of wings, silence—what did it all mean? And sometimes, in the distance, there was a growling and a howling and a sudden sharp scream. The wild animals were on the prowl. There!—what was that? Something moved nearer to the camp, stealthily, gracefully, a huge black cat-like creature with blazing emerald eyes. More fuel for the fires! Rex jumped to his feet with a yell, snatched a burning brand out of the fire and flung it in the beast’s face. Spitting and hissing, the wild cat slunk back into the darkness, and there at the very edge of the little circle of dim light they could see its evil eyes glaring at them. ‘Look, there’s another!’ whispered Guy. Another and yet another. From every part of the forest they came, drawn by the savour and promise of a feast, until at last it seemed to the boys that wherever they looked, there, at the circumference of the circle, were green eyes watching and waiting.

  For a long while nothing happened at all, and it seemed as though nothing would ever happen again. From time to time the boys threw more fuel on to the fires, and then the lurking beasts of prey would shrink further away, snarling and blinking. It was a long and trying vigil. The night passed slowly, but gave no sign of its passing, so that it was almost impossible to believe that the morning really would arrive some time. And when it did come, what would happen? wondered the two boys. Their eyelids were heavy; they would have given anything to be allowed to go to sleep; but if they went to sleep the fires might go out, and then the wild beasts would have them for supper. In spite of this terrifying thought they sometimes found themselves nodding, sometimes woke with a jerk to a sense of danger, and found that the circle of eyes was nearer by several yards, nearer and closing in upon them. Then they would shout and jump up and fling a flaming brand or two into the darkness. And through it all, all the noise and scuffling, all the snarling and howling of the beasts, Elizabeth and Martin slept soundly.

  Suddenly, as the boys sat watching, there was a stir among the beasts, a flicker of fear in the bright cruel eyes. A heavy pad-pad, a mighty earth-shaking roar, and into their midst leapt a huge lion. The boys, transfixed with fear, sat for one instant staring at the creature, saw it leap upon its prey and plunge its claws into the soft fur. What animal it had chosen they could not discern; they could only see that it was almost as big as the lion itself, and they gave a gasp of astonishment to see the lion, like a monstrous cat, take up the struggling creature in its jaws and carry it away without effort as though it had been a mouse. All the other animals had fled, and now the lion himself was gone, and it was unlikely, said Rex, that he would bother to visit them again.

  ‘But it’s a mighty good job we had the fires going well,’ he added. ‘Even lions are afraid of fire, I expect.’

  Just then Elizabeth spoke: ‘Aren’t you going to bed, you two?’

  ‘Hullo, Elizabeth! You awake?’ said Guy. ‘We’ve been having a high old time.’

  ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Oh, nothing much,’ said Rex airily. And Guy, by the tone of his brother’s voice, knew that Elizabeth wasn’t to be told too much, at least not till morning. ‘There was some kind of animal prowling round outside, but we jolly soon frightened it off with our fires.’

  ‘They’re nice fires,’ Elizabeth remarked sleepily. ‘But I’m sure you ought to have a rest.’ She yawned. ‘I’m wide awake now, so I’ll be on guard.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to wake young Martin,’ said Rex. ‘You might have to jump up in a hurry, and then you’d spill him, wouldn’t you, if he was making a pillow of you as he is now. Hi, Martin!’

  ‘Yes.’ Martin sat up at once, rubbing his eyes. ‘Is it time to get up, Nancy?’

  ‘Wake up,’ said Elizabeth gently. ‘We’re not at home. Nancy’s not here, you know.’

  ‘Where are we?’

  ‘We’re in the forest on our island, and it’s our turn to go on guard,’ explained Elizabeth.

  After a moment’s thinking it out, Martin suddenly asked: ‘Where’s Fandy?’

  The others looked guiltily at each other. In the hurry and excitement of escaping from the pirates they had forgotten all about Fandy. And so, it seemed, had even Martin.

  ‘If you’ve gone and lost my Fandy cat,’ cried Martin, jumping up and looking as though he might be going to cry, ‘I’ll … I’ll … I don’t know what I’ll do to you.’

  Rex laughed, rather unkindly. He was sorry Fandy was lost, but he didn’t feel disposed to worry about it when there were so many other and more important things to think of. He wanted first of all a drink of water and then a long sleep. So did Guy.

  Rex said: ‘
Well, my child, you should have looked after him better. He’s your cat, isn’t he? If you will go leaving him about…’

  ‘Don’t tease,’ interposed Elizabeth. ‘I expect Fandy has gone back to the boat.’

  ‘But why didn’t he follow us like he always does?’

  ‘That’s bad grammar, anyhow,’ Rex loftily remarked. ‘Yes, he must have gone back to the longboat. There’s a barrel of water there, and some grub. My hat, I could do with a drink, couldn’t you, everybody?’

  ‘Of course we could!’ said Guy. ‘Don’t be such a blessed ass. No use talking about it, is there? Only makes it worse. I’m going to have a nap if I can, and forget all about it. In the morning,’ he added between yawns, ‘we’ll go back to the beach and find food … and Fandy … and everything. And then …’ His voice died away. He was fast asleep.

  ‘Now, if anything happens,’ Rex said, ‘you must wake us at once, Elizabeth. What you’ve got to do is to keep the fires going well. If you don’t, that jackal or whatever it was may come after us again. And be careful what you pick up. Young Guy nearly got hold of a snake thinking it was a fallen branch. Shout if you want anything. Just shout and give me a kick.’

  Having delivered his instructions Rex flung himself down beside Guy.

  So Elizabeth and Martin were left alone, for with their two brothers asleep it was just like being alone. Elizabeth was determined not to wake them if she could possibly help it, and she was glad to notice that the forest seemed a little lighter than it had been. She stared up at the sky, only a little round patch of which was visible. It’s like a bald patch on a man’s head, she thought, and it’s changing colour, it’s not quite so dark as it was. But she remembered that she mustn’t let the fires go down, in case that jackal came back.

  When she had replenished the fires, she and Martin sat side by side, thinking things over and occasionally talking in whispers. ‘It’s funny here, isn’t it?’ said Martin. ‘And rather nice. But I do wish Fandy hadn’t run away. I say, Elizabeth, do you remember we promised Mother we’d be back to tea? Will she be awfully wild about it? I bet she will, don’t you? But p’rhaps if we get the treasure she won’t mind so much. What’s the treasure like, I wonder?’

  Elizabeth answered in a soft dreamy voice: ‘The treasure’s in a great big black sea-chest with brass things all over it, and there’s everything you could possibly want. For Mother and Father there’s a whole heap of pieces of eight and doubloons and jade necklaces and old lace and the most marvellous dresses…’

  ‘And a sundial,’ said Martin.

  ‘A sundial!’ Elizabeth was surprised. ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘Why,’ cried Martin reproachfully, ‘you know Father wants a sundial.’

  ‘Oh, all right,’ agreed Elizabeth. ‘Only it’ll be pretty heavy, I don’t mind telling you, and there won’t be much room for anything else.’

  ‘What else will there be?’

  ‘There’ll be something for Nancy, I don’t know what, a season ticket for the pictures p’rhaps, and something for each of us. What do you want for yourself, Martin?’

  ‘A catapult,’ said Martin, without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Well, let’s hope there’ll be a catapult. And, for us all, a huge lovely iced cake with our names written on it in pink…. Oh, look!’

  ‘Where?’ asked Martin.

  They both stared about them. Something was stealing into the forest, something they had both been waiting and hoping for; yet now it was come they were surprised to find it so beautiful. ‘Morning at last!’ sighed Elizabeth rapturously. Morning began glowing in the forest; at first dimly, shyly; then with a more golden radiance. Birds awoke in the branches and called to each other; the greenness became visibly green, and the little patch of sky overhead shone like an opal. ‘Time to get up!’ shouted Elizabeth joyously. ‘Something’s happened at last. It’s morning!’

  The boys roused at once. ‘Anything wrong?’ cried Rex, snatching up his gun by the barrel. And Guy, saying nothing, jumped to his feet and looked wildly round.

  ‘Nothing at all,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Have a good sleep?’

  Rex did not answer. His gaze was fixed on something that lay ten yards away from where Elizabeth stood. ‘What’s that?’

  They all looked, following his stealthily pointing finger. ‘It’s a man asleep,’ said Guy.

  ‘Oh, it must be Phineas,’ cried Elizabeth, clapping her hands. ‘Phineas, we’re here!’ she called.

  ‘It’s not Phineas,’ said Rex. ‘Don’t make such a row, Elizabeth. It’s not Phineas. And look!—there are two of them. Pirates!’

  ‘Let’s slip off while we can,’ whispered Guy.

  But at that moment one of the sleepers awoke, sat up, rubbed his eyes, and opened his mouth in a huge yawn.

  Chapter 12

  A Pretty Pair of Pirates

  Up went Rex’s musket to his shoulder.

  ‘Hands up!’ the children shouted.

  ‘M-m-m-mercy!’ cried the man. His eyes started out of his head in fear; he raised his trembling hands; his teeth chattered. ‘Do have a bit of pity, mister! Don’t be unkind, I simply can’t bear it. I’m really quite a nice man. And so very sensitive, so highly strung. My nerves are out of order, I’m not getting my proper sleep, I need to be made a fuss of, and if you don’t p-p-p-put that m-m-musket away I shall b-b-b-b-b-burst into tears.’ With these words, his empty hands held high in air, the man rose jerkily to his feet, revealing himself as a lean lanky creature wearing an ancient and ragged swallow-tailed coat over a sailor’s jersey and bell-bottomed trousers. Round his head was tied a red handkerchief, white-spotted. He had large pathetic eyes like a cow; his blunt nose stuck out sharply; and the length of his narrow face was exaggerated by a little fawn-coloured beard, that wagged at the end of his chin. Except for this appendage he was clean-shaven. At the conclusion of his appeal he allowed his mouth to remain open, and a timid smile shone in his eyes as if he were trying to say: ‘See how harmless I am!’

  ‘You’re a pirate,’ Rex accused him. ‘You’d better own up, because we know.’

  Tears glistened in the poor fellow’s eyes; his nostrils dilated like those of a frightened horse; and, apparently unable to trust himself to speak, he gazed in silence at his captors, his mouth still open in a manner that made him look like a sentimental goldfish.

  ‘Look here,’ said Guy, ‘you’ve got to answer a few questions. Who are you? And who’s that other chap over there? We think you’re pirates, so we’re not taking any chances.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the man, ‘I’m a pirate right enough, mister. And a bloodthirsty gang we are. On the other hand, I wouldn’t hurt a fly—not unless someone held it down for me. You’ve got that to take into account. Slaughter and pillage and loot and such like is meat and drink to me in a manner of speaking. But you mustn’t lose sight of the facts (a) that I’ve a sweet nature, (b) that I can’t rightly digest me food, and (c) that it’s your duty to be kind to me, as Christian children, seeing as how I’ve flung myself on your mercy.’ He smiled winsomely through his tears, adding: ‘And sweeter chicks I never seen, if it isn’t taking a liberty, my dears …’ Seeing the sudden scowl on Rex’s face, the pirate broke off short and fell to trembling again. Mutely, with his eloquent mournful eyes, he begged for a kind word.

  ‘You’re an awful funk,’ said Rex. ‘We don’t need telling that.’

  ‘I am indeed,’ cried the pirate eagerly, and with a radiant smile. ‘Through and through and through and through. Thank you for saying that, sir. It’s so nice to be understood. A funk I am, and never one to conceal it. That’s why it’s so bad for me to be scolded or treated roughly. It upsets me something terrible.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked Martin. ‘Mine’s Martin.’

  ‘They call me Bill Murder,’ said the pirate, with a downcast look and a modest blush. ‘Whether I deserve the name or not isn’t for the likes of me to say. But that,’ he repeated, with a complacent smile, ‘is what my mates do
call me, dear child—on account of me furious temper, so they say.’

  ‘And who’s that other chap?’ put in Guy.

  ‘That’s a dear friend of mine, Nautical Tallboy by name. Nautical, Nautical, wake up, dear lad, and be introduced to the kind gentlemen.’

  Nautical Tallboy jumped up so quickly that the Robinsons guessed at once that he had been awake all the time. ‘Yes, Mr Murder,’ said he. ‘Certainly, Mr Murder.’ He advanced sedately—a short, square-headed little man with red hair and mild china-blue eyes. He was a good deal younger than Bill Murder, and he was dressed more neatly, in a black suit and a white stiff collar of the kind that fastens at the back. He bowed to the company.

  ‘You’re prisoners, you two,’ announced Rex. ‘And as we can’t tie you up you’ll have to march ahead while I keep you covered with my gun. Have you any arms on you, apart from the daggers I see at your belts?’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ sighed Bill Murder.

  ‘Hadn’t we better search them?’ suggested Guy. ‘I believe it’s the usual thing.’

  ‘Yes, we’d better. Hands up, Mr Tallboy, while my brother searches you.’

  ‘Would you doubt my word?’ asked Nautical Tallboy in a sad, shocked voice. But he held up his hands all the same.

  Guy, not much liking the job, stepped up to each pirate in turn and went through his pockets. The pockets were empty of weapons, but each pirate was discovered to have a third dagger hidden in one of his boots.

  ‘Found anything?’ asked Rex.

  ‘Only six daggers,’ Guy answered. He too wore a belt, having had the good luck to find one on the Resmiranda, and into this belt he stuck the six daggers. ‘Now we’re all ready.’

  ‘Then march!’ said Rex.

  So they all set off at a brisk pace in the direction of Gunpowder Creek, the two pirates in front (and they made a strange pair, the one so tall, the other short and squat and scarcely reaching to his companion’s shoulder), Rex and Guy next, keeping a sharp watch on the prisoners, and Elizabeth and Martin last. They were by now ravenously hungry, and were delighted when they reached the grove of date-palms. The dates, though they went some way towards satisfying their hunger, made them still more thirsty; and at last Martin sank to the ground and declared that he couldn’t go on. Elizabeth called a halt, and Guy, leaving Rex to guard the prisoners, ran back to see what was the matter. At that very moment an impudent monkey, perched high in a coconut tree, began maliciously shaking the branches. One, two, three coconuts fell.