Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“Tally on on the rope,” she cried. “What about piping up a tune?”

“It ought to be ‘Way, Hay,’ ” said Titty.

So she started off with:

“What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

What shall we do with a drunken sailor?

Early in the morning.”

Everybody joined in with:

“Way, Hay, up she raises,

Way, Hay, up she raises,

Way, Hay, up she raises,

Early in the morning.”

The waterfall was not very high, and, with the whole lot of them pulling, Captain Flint’s huge bale came rattling up and over the edge into the valley just as they got to the end of the chorus. That song, and particularly the chorus, brings a load up hand over hand so easily that you would hardly believe it, no matter how heavy the load is, when you have two captains, two mates, an able-seaman and a ship’s boy all tallying on on the rope, and a parrot on a rock beside them letting loose encouraging screams. In the end, when all the bundles had been pulled up, Captain Flint hung on to the end of the rope himself and came scrambling up the rocks while the captains and the mates and the crew panted and grunted out, “Way, Hay, up she raises.”

LOADING CAPTAIN FLINT

“It’s all wrong to sing that now,” said Roger, as Captain Flint got to his feet and they were able to stop pulling. “He isn’t a she.”

“Never mind,” said Captain Flint. “No more are anchors or bundles, if it comes to that.”

The Amazons and Captain Flint helped to shift the things from the top of the waterfall to the place where Susan meant to have the tents, close by the fireplace and the little whirlpool that was so handy for washing-up. The able-seaman kept close at their heels wherever they went, afraid every minute that they would see the heather pushed into the doorway of the cave. Roger kept pointing out trout in the little pools of the stream. Anything to keep their eyes away from the wall of grey rock with that dark shadow at the bottom of it, and the thick heather growing as if in a crack of the stone. The worst of it was that there was a track of bits of dry stick leading all the way from the fireplace to the cave, dropped, no doubt, when they were stowing the firewood away before going down to Horseshoe Cove the night before. Titty was telling herself what duffers they had been not to think of that, and how, whatever happened, they must never leave a track of anything again. You had only to see those sticks and to follow them to the rock and Peter Duck’s cave would be secret no longer. But the Amazons never noticed them. They might have seen them, if they had been in less of a hurry. But Captain Flint kept reminding them that they had to be back for lunch, and they were only looking round as quick as they could before racing down again to the Amazon and setting sail for home.

“Remember the row there was the day before yesterday,” he said. “And to-day there’s no shipwreck for an excuse.”

“Even the shipwreck wasn’t much good, was it?” said Nancy. “We’ll hurry. We won’t get you into another mess.”

“There wasn’t really a row because you stayed to help down at Horseshoe Cove?” said John.

“Wasn’t there?” said Nancy. “You don’t know the great-aunt. I say, what’s the valley look like from outside?”

“You simply can’t see it at all,” said Titty, delighted to get the Amazons well away from the cave. “Come and look.”

They climbed all together up the steep northern side of the valley and looked out over the moorland.

“From ten yards away you can’t see there’s a valley at all,” said John.

“What’s that big rock?” said Nancy, pointing away to the north.

“Watch-tower,” said John. “At least it’s going to be.”

“Um,” said Nancy. “You can see it from far enough.”

“That’s why it’s a good watch-tower,” said Titty.

“It’ll help us to find the valley if we come over the moor,” said Nancy. “We will. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll make a surprise attack. The very first day we can get away. We can’t come to-morrow.”

“We’ll be ready for you,” said Captain John.

“You won’t be able to get away at all,” said Captain Flint, “if you don’t bolt for it now.”

“Come on,” said Peggy. “You’ll be late too. We shan’t. Not with this wind.”

“No. I don’t come on duty until tea-time. But for goodness’ sake don’t you be late. I really should like to keep out of hot water for a day or two at least.”

“He’s as much afraid of the G.A. as we are,” Peggy explained to Susan.

“He’s much more afraid,” said Nancy. “So’s mother, poor dear.”

“He even puts on townish clothes,” said Peggy.

“Phew!” said Nancy. “What about our best frocks? Come on. We’ve only just got time. I forgot we’d slipped out in comfortables.”

They hared down into the valley, grabbed their oar, coiled their rope, raced for the waterfall, and a few minutes later the Swallows and Captain Flint, looking after them, saw their red caps disappear into the trees.

“They didn’t spot the cave,” said Roger.

“No,” said Titty.

“By Gum,” said Captain John, “just wait until they make their attack.”

“Don’t count on their making one,” said Captain Flint. “It really is a bit difficult for them to get away.”

“I think the great-aunt must be horrid,” said Titty.

Captain Flint said neither “Yes” nor “No” to that, but reminded them that he would be going by Holly Howe and would take a mail if they liked to make one ready. So while the baggage was still lying about the fireplace and the tents not pitched, they dug out Titty’s writing things and made a despatch, dated from Swallowdale, and signed by everybody, to say that the move had been made, that there was no longer fear of fevers or floods, and that they hoped that mother and the ship’s baby would come as soon as possible to tea.

“But how will she find the way?” said Susan.

“I’ll be working at the mast,” said John. “So it’ll be all right if she comes to the cove.”

This was added, and the despatch was folded up and put in an envelope and addressed to mother at Holly Howe. Roger wrote “Pirate Post” in the top left-hand corner.

Captain Flint had been quietly smoking his pipe during the making of the despatch. “By the way,” he said, when it was finished, as if he had just remembered something, “I’d like to have a look in your cave if I may. I suppose it’s all right now those two have gone?”

Susan lent him her torch and he squeezed in. The explorers crowded after him.

“It’s smaller than I thought it was,” he said when he was inside and able once more to stand up. He turned to the right inside the doorway and there, carved with a knife on the rock, he found the name “Ben Gunn” in big sprawling letters.

“We’ll put Peter Duck’s name there too,” said Titty.

“Ben Gunn’ll be glad to meet him,” said Captain Flint.

“Did you carve it?” asked John.

“More than thirty years ago,” said Captain Flint.

Soon after that he went off down the moor. He said he’d like to stop with them but after carrying that huge bale he was afraid if he didn’t keep moving he might get stiff. Anyway he’d be at the cove in the morning to show John how to use the shaping plane and the callipers. They went with him to the edge of the waterfall, told him he had been very useful as a porter, and said good-bye to him when he had safely climbed down beside the stream. When he had gone a little way towards the top of the woods, he turned to wave to any of the explorers who might still be looking down from above the waterfall. But none were there. They were busy putting up the tents in the new camp.