Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“What are you doing?” said Roger.

“Giving them something to catch,” said Captain Flint.

He chopped away with the knife and presently the flat piece of wood had a narrow place at one end and a big forked tail beyond it. The rest of it was shaped like a melon, only flat, with a square piece sticking up from the edge of it, like a fin.

“It’s a fish,” said Roger.

“Didn’t they say they were going to catch something?” said Captain Flint.

He carved the head of the fish, giving it big gill covers and a wide mouth and a large, round, staring eye.

“It’s a very good fish,” said Roger.

“They won’t think so when they catch it,” said Captain Flint. “Now,” he said, pulling a bit of string from his pocket, “we’ll tie their pipe to the fish’s tail, and we’ll bury them both under the stones where they hid my box. Then when they come on the lake pretending to be fishing, and land here to dig up their loot they’ll dig up the fish and find the pipe they lost; and if they put two and two together, as I expect they will, they will think that somebody was close at hand all the time and heard what they said and knows who they are and all about them, and I should think they’ll go off in a hurry, wishing they’d stayed at home.”

He hove up his box and put the fish and the pipe in the hole where the box had lain.

“Half a minute,” he said. “They may as well have a sermon at the same time.” Taking out his pencil he wrote in big letters along the side of the wooden fish, “honesty is the best policy.” Then he put it back and covered the fish with stones. “Pile it up with stones,” he said, “so that it will take them some time to dig down to it.” And the Amazons and Swallows piled in stones until the hole was filled up.

“Now it looks just like it did before I began to make a fireplace,” said Titty.

“Well, that’s that,” said Captain Flint. “Good luck to them. And now,” he said, “if all you people had not been doing exactly what you were doing that night (even if you were supposed to be in bed), I should never have got that box again. I should have been sorry to lose the old box, because it’s been with me all over the world. And I should have lost the book I’ve been writing all summer in spite of the efforts of Nancy and Peggy to make any writing impossible. Never any of you start writing books. It isn’t worth it. This summer has been harder work for me than all the thirty years of knocking up and down that went before it. And if those scoundrels had got away with the box I could never have done it again. I owe a great deal to all of you, and most of all to the able-seaman. Look here, Able-seaman, you tell me anything in the world that I can get for you and you shall have it.”

“You did say that you were going to bring me back a parrot,” said the able-seaman, “and there isn’t anything in the world I’d rather have. If you really meant it,” she added.

“Was it you who said you wanted a grey one?”

“I like green ones best.”

“It’s a long time to wait till next summer,” said Captain Flint.

“I don’t mind waiting,” said the able-seaman.

Just then Captain Flint seemed to think of something suddenly.

“Look here,” he said, “I must go off at once to tell the police to stop making inquiries. I’ll take you across and drop you on your island.”

“You’ll come back for the shark steaks, won’t you?” said Susan.

“Shark?” said Roger. “Did you get a shark?”

“A walloper,” said Peggy.

“I’ll do my best,” said Captain Flint, “but don’t wait for me. I’ve got a long way to row. Come along.” He hove the big box on his shoulder and carried it to his boat. Roger was there before him, looking at a great green and white pike lying on the bottom boards.

“Did you catch him?”

“We caught him between us.”

“He’s nearly as big as the one I didn’t catch. There aren’t any like that in Houseboat Bay.”

“Who’s coming with me and who in Swallow?” asked Captain Flint.

“I’m going with the shark,” said Roger.

“There’s room for you all,” said Captain Flint; “but someone ought to steer Swallow or she’ll be all over the place.”

“I’ll steer Swallow,” said Titty, really because she wanted to be alone. She had had one idea firm in her head and had held to it when every one thought she was wrong; and now, when everybody knew she had been right, just for a minute or two she did not want to do any talking.

Everybody else crowded into the big rowing boat. Captain Flint rowed in the bows, looking at his old cabin trunk with its ancient labels. Roger sat on the cabin trunk, looking at the big jaws of the pike. John, Susan, Nancy and Peggy sat in the stern. John held the Swallow’s painter, and the Swallow, with the able-seaman happy at the tiller, slipped smoothly along in the rowing boat’s wake.

When Captain Flint had rowed away, leaving the Swallows and Amazons on Wild Cat Island, they found a great deal to do. The fire was out and a new fire had to be made up and the kettle boiled for tea. The mates, Susan and Peggy, took charge of that. John and Nancy were busy taking down all the fishing rods and the fishing tackle. Roger was looking at the fish. Titty paddled Swallow round from the landing-place to the harbour. Then the two captains went to the harbour and joined the able-seaman, who was waiting for them. They stepped Swallow’s mast and then moored her side by side with Amazon but not so near that the two little ships could bump each other. From the harbour, when their work was done and Swallow and Amazon were both ready for the night, they looked out to sea, away to the southern end of the lake.

“Barometer’s gone down two-tenths since morning,” said Captain John.

“When it’s as hot as this in the evening something always happens,” said Captain Nancy. “Probably thunder.”

“Don’t like the look of it at all,” said Captain John. “There’s no wind to speak of, and yet look at that cloud.”

Titty, too, was looking at the big dark cloud coming up in the south. If it was going to rain, she was thinking, what a good thing it had held off for to-day to let her find the treasure.

The mate’s whistle sounded in the camp, and all three of them hurried back to a late tea of bunloaf and marmalade.

Almost as soon as tea was over and the mugs rinsed out Roger said, “Are we really going to have shark steaks for supper?”

“Why not?” said Mate Susan.

“Mister Mate,” said Peggy, “have you ever scaled shark?”

“Not yet,” said Susan.

“It’s awful,” said Peggy.

“We’d better start on it at once,” said Susan. “It’s late, anyway.”

They went down to the landing-place where the great green and white mottled fish with its huge head and wicked eyes lay on the stones. They knelt beside it, each with a knife, and began scraping.

“You scrape from its middle to its tail, I’ll scrape from its head to its middle,” said Peggy.

The others watched. Roger hung round the mates as near as he could. He could not take his eyes off the fish.

“Whatever you do, don’t get your hand into its mouth,” said Peggy, when Roger tried to measure its head with his hand. “I did once, with a smaller one than this, and I couldn’t hold a rope for a month.”

“Why?” said Roger.

“Look at its teeth,” said Peggy, and she stopped scraping and opened its huge jaws with a stone.

Roger looked in at the rows and rows of sharp teeth pointing backwards and the long teeth, like a dog’s, in the lower jaw.

“Perhaps it’s a good thing there were no sharks in Houseboat Bay,” he said.

“Why?” said Peggy.