Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“I say,” said Susan, “we nearly forgot to give you the message.”

“What message?”

“From the savages,” said Titty. “We went up into the forest, and saw them, and they showed us a serpent.”

“You’ve been seeing the Billies, the charcoal-burners,” said Nancy.

“Well, they live in a wigwam,” said Titty.

“They gave us a message for you,” said Susan. “We were to tell you to tell him . . .”

“Who?” said Captain Nancy.

“Captain Flint,” said Titty.

“That old Billy, or young Billy, I forget which, said that he ought to put a good lock on his houseboat when he leaves her.”

“But why?” said Nancy.

“Because of us?” said Peggy.

“No,” said Susan. “Because of some talk he’d heard among the other natives.”

John had said nothing. Now he spoke. “We couldn’t give you the message, because there was no wind,” he said, “and I did not know what to do about it. I tried to give him the message, but he wouldn’t listen. Would you have told him it or not?”

“But if he locks up the houseboat we shan’t be able to raid it for green feathers for our arrows,” said Peggy.

“If he doesn’t lock it up, it may be raided by someone else,” said Nancy. “We ought not to let it be wasted on natives.”

They were now hurrying towards the harbour. The point was debated from all sides. It was finally settled by Nancy.

“We’ll tell him,” she said. “Let him put a padlock on it. Let him put ten padlocks. We’ll smash them with crowbars. I’ll tell him now, on the way home.”

“But you can’t,” said John. “He’s gone away.”

“Gone away?” said Nancy, as she pushed Amazon off.

“I saw him go. He took his parrot.”

“Well, he’s back then,” said Nancy. “We saw his light in the houseboat on our way here last night. The cabin windows were all lit up.”

“We can’t tell him now,” said Peggy.

“Why not?” said Nancy.

“Because we’re at home in bed,” said Peggy.

“Shiver my timbers, so we are,” said Captain Nancy. “I’d forgotten that. Shove off. So long, Commodore.”

As fast as they could, the Amazon pirates paddled their ship out of the harbour and set sail. There was no time to lose. The sunlight had almost reached the edge of the water on the far side of the lake. The Swallows went back to their camp. As they got there they heard a shout from the water, and John and Titty ran up to the Look-out Place. Amazon was sailing by, moving very fast with the fresh morning wind, her sail well out to starboard. At her masthead fluttered once more the pirate flag. Peggy held the flag halyards. Suddenly the flag dropped, and was lowered to half-mast. Then it rose again, and fluttered at the masthead as before.

“Hurrah for the Swallows,” shouted Nancy and Peggy over the water.

“Hurrah for the Amazons,” shouted Titty and John. Roger ran up just in time to shout, “Hurrah.” Susan was busy dividing out the blankets between the two tents. Presently she came up to the others who were still watching the little white sail growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Roger,” she said, “your watch below. Go to bed this minute.”

“But it’s to-morrow,” said Roger.

“I don’t care if it’s the day before yesterday,” said Susan. “March!”

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That day it was one o’clock before John and Roger rowed across and went up to Dixon’s farm for the milk and a new supply of eggs and butter. It had been nearly seven in the morning before Susan had hurried them to bed in broad daylight. No alarm clock could have stirred them, and they had no alarm clock on Wild Cat Island. The camp was roused at last by Roger, who was waked, some time after noon, by a strong desire for breakfast.

“You can’t have breakfast till we’ve got the milk,” Susan had said, waking up to find the boy pulling at her, and saying, “I want something to eat.” She had given him a biscuit, but a biscuit does not go far.

Titty had waked with a great start just as Roger went out again. She had sat up suddenly, thinking she heard an owl, and that she was still watching by the camp fire. But on finding herself in the tent with Susan, and the hot sun pouring through the white canvas walls, she lay down again to pick up in her mind the threads of the night’s adventure.

Roger went back to the captain’s tent. The captain’s feet stuck up temptingly under his blanket. Roger took hold of one of them in both hands, blanket and all, and gave a tug. The foot jerked suddenly away, and John woke up.

“Susan says, ‘Go and fetch the milk,’ ” said Roger.

“I didn’t. I said we couldn’t have breakfast without it,” called Susan from the other tent.

John yawned. “Come on, then. Where are our towels?”

“Let’s swim afterwards,” said Roger. “I’m empty.”

John rolled over to look at the chronometer, which lay with the little aneroid on the tin box at the back of the tent. As soon as he saw what time it was, he threw his blankets off and jumped up.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ll go for the milk right away.”

“Take a basket for the eggs,” called Susan.

The captain and the boy went to the harbour, pushed off the Swallow, and worked her out with the oars. There was still a good wind blowing, and they decided that it would be quicker to sail than to row.

“What will we do to her to show that she’s the flagship?” asked the boy.

“Why, nothing,” said the captain.

“What is a flagship?” asked the boy.

“It’s the chief ship of a fleet.”

“But why flag?”

“Because the Admiral of the Fleet, or the Commodore (that’s me), flies his flag on her.”

“But you haven’t got a flag, only the one Titty made.”

“Well, that’s a very good one,” said the captain. “It’s different from theirs. That’s all that matters.”

They landed, and hurried up the field with the milk-can.

“You’re more than a bit late for the milk this morning,” said Mrs. Dixon, who was scrubbing the slate floor in the dairy. “Morning,” she said, “why, it’s afternoon already. I was just saying to Dixon that I thought maybe he ought to run down to see if you were all right, or happen go along the road to Holly Howe to see if you were gone home.”

These natives! Friendly though they were, there was never any knowing what mischief they might do. It was just that thought that had made John jump up in such a hurry when he saw the time. If Mr. Dixon had gone along to Holly Howe to ask what had happened, and whether the milk was wanted, mother would have been bound to think that something had gone wrong. And nothing had gone wrong at all. Everything had gone right. John knew well enough that mother counted on the regular morning visit to Dixon’s farm for the milk to keep her in touch with the Swallows. Mother knew that the Dixons would let her know at once if no one had come up from the island with the milk-can. Natives were like that, useful in a way, but sometimes a bother. They all held together, a huge network of gossip and scouting, through the meshes of which it was difficult for explorers and pirates to slip.

“I’d have run along myself, first thing,” said Mrs. Dixon, “if I hadn’t been that busy.”

“Well,” thought John, “it was a good thing that the natives had plenty to do.”

“What was gone with you?” asked Mrs. Dixon, bustling round and pouring the milk out of a great bowl. “Did you sleep so hard you never wanted any breakfast?”