Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“There’s something close here,” she said.

Swallow drifted in smooth water. John put out the oars.

“It’s here,” said Susan. “Close here. Pull, pull your left. It’s a landing stage.”

Swallow bumped softly against wood.

“Hang on to it, whatever it is,” called John. He shipped his oars. Then he scrambled forward. The torch showed the black damp wooden beams of one of the landing stages used by the natives for their rowing boats.

“Hold your torch up, Susan,” he said. “I’m going ashore.”

Susan held up her torch. John was on the landing stage in a moment.

“All right now,” he said. “I’ve got the painter.” He lit his torch, and Susan saw him, as Swallow drifted back, standing on the landing stage and making fast the painter round a post.

“We’re all right here, anyhow,” he said. “Lucky for us not to hit that rock we passed. I wonder which island this is.”

He walked up the landing stage, lighting himself with his torch. Then he came back.

“There’s a notice which says, ‘Private. Landing Forbidden.’ ”

“What are we to do?” said Susan.

“Land,” said Captain John. “At least, land if we want to. The natives are all asleep anyhow. We’ll stay here until there’s a little light. There’s bound to be some light soon. Only duffers would try to get through the islands in dark as black as this.”

“What about Titty?” said Susan.

“Titty’s in camp. She’s got a tent. She’ll be all right. So are we now.”

Captain John was extremely happy. Now that the danger was over, he knew very well that they had as nearly as possible been duffers after all, racing about in the dark. And instead of being smashed on a rock here was Swallow snugly tied up to a landing stage. Where they were did not matter. Dawn would show that.

Susan said, “Roger, you’d better go to sleep.”

There was no answer. Roger was asleep already.

John came back into the boat.

“Look out you don’t wake him,” said Susan. John stepped carefully over the sleeping boy.

“There are two more blankets,” said Susan.

“I’m not going to sleep,” said John, making himself comfortable in the bottom of the boat. “You can.”

“I say, John,” whispered Susan a minute or two later.

Again there was no answer.

A few minutes after that she too was asleep.

The wind blew away the clouds and the stars shone out high over Swallow and her sleeping crew. The deep blue of the sky began to pale over the eastern hills. The islands clustered about Rio Bay became dark masses on a background no longer as dark as themselves. The colour of the water changed. It had been as black as the hills and the sky, and as these paled so did the lake. The dark islands were dull green and grey, and the rippled water was the colour of a pewter teapot.

When John woke it was still long before sunrise, but it was quite light enough for sailing. He woke with a start, and some shame at having slept. He was glad he had been the first to wake. He knew at once where they were, moored to the landing stage on one of the smaller islands at the northern end of Rio Bay. He tried to cast off and get the sail up without waking the others, but, as he moved, they stirred.

Roger yawned, and pulled himself up by the gunwale to look over the side. He just had one look and then, without saying anything, settled down to sleep again.

Susan woke as one wakes who has breakfast to get for a family.

“I say,” she said, “we could have started ages ago. It’s quite light.”

“Come on, then,” said John. “You take the main-sheet, while I set the sail. I didn’t want to wake you . . . but I’ve only just waked myself, really. It’s going to be another fine day, and the wind is the same.”

He unfastened the painter and put it once round the post at the end of the landing stage. Then he hoisted the sail. He had forgotten that it was reefed. It did not take a minute to shake out the reef. It was a great deal easier than tying it down in the dark. Then he hoisted the sail again and cast off. Swallow drifted backwards a few feet, and then gathered a breath of wind and began to sail. He came aft and took the tiller.

Susan blinked at the notice-board about landing being forbidden.

“We didn’t exactly land,” she said.

They tacked through between Rio and the islands. Rio Bay lay deserted as they had never seen it. No one was up. The houses had blinds in all their windows. Yachts lay at their moorings. The rowing boats of the natives lay drawn up on the beach. There was not a native to be seen.

“It won’t be sunrise for some time yet,” said John, looking up at the faint glow in the sky over the hills.

They sailed out into the open lake beyond the islands, and made a long board across to the farther side. Then, “Ready about,” and back again. Their second tack beyond the islands let them see into the narrow bay below Holly Howe. There was Holly Howe itself, the farmhouse, white among its yew trees and hollies, up on the hillside at the top of the sloping field. Mother and Vicky and nurse were in there asleep. John looked at Susan, and Susan looked at John. Both had the same thought, but neither said anything. It was not an altogether comfortable thought. Still, they would soon be back at the camp on Wild Cat Island.

At last Susan said, “I hope to goodness Titty had the sense to go to sleep.”

“Bet she didn’t,” said John. “She wouldn’t want to, anyhow.”

They left the Peak of Darien astern. John saw the houseboat moored to its big buoy in Houseboat Bay, but it reminded him of his meeting with Captain Flint, so he looked the other way.

They could see Wild Cat Island now, and suddenly Susan said, “Titty’s awake. She’s got a most tremendous fire.”

A big column of smoke was lifting and blowing from the island.

“Hullo,” said John. “There’s a boat. Why, it’s the Amazon.”

“Where?” said Susan.

“Over there. Starboard bow. By Cormorant Island. We shall fetch her on this tack.”

“It’s Amazon all right,” said Susan. “But there’s nobody in her. She must have broken loose from somewhere and drifted away.”

John watched carefully.

“She’s not drifting,” he said. “She’s at anchor. Perhaps the Amazons are asleep in her. Hurrah! Let’s capture her after all. We’ll get her anchor without waking them and tow her into harbour. Then when they wake they’ll be prisoners.”

“I don’t believe there’s anybody in her,” said Susan.

“Rubbish,” said John. “She couldn’t have got there and anchored herself.”

“Well, we’ll see in a minute,” said Susan.

John did not at first alter the Swallow’s course. That tack would bring her just to windward of the Amazon. Then he would be able to back down carefully with the oars to get hold of the anchor rope and take her in tow without waking the sleeping pirates. Then he changed his mind. It would be better to sail close under her stern to have a look into her. It would be silly to try to get their anchor if the Amazons were only pretending to be asleep.

“I’m sure there’s no one in her,” said Susan as they rushed towards the little anchored ship.

But just then a hand showed on the gunwale, and a moment later, just as they were passing under Amazon’s stern, the white face and rather draggled hair of Able-seaman Titty appeared over the transom.

Able-seaman Titty had thought out the proper thing to say. Something about “Report,” “Capture,” “Enemies,” and “Prize.” But the words went out of her head at the last minute, and all she actually said was, “I’ve got her.”