Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

Everybody liked the idea of the shaggy hill ponies to carry the explorers’ packs. But then, everybody liked the idea of sailing to the Baltic. So nothing was really decided.

“Whatever it is,” said Captain Flint, “I’ll be free next summer, and if you’ll sign me on, I’ll be glad to come. If we sail to the Baltic you’ll want someone to haul up the anchor, and if we go prospecting it would be hard on a hill pony if he had to carry the gold as well as the tents.”

“The monkey can come too,” said Roger. “He can look out from the very top of the mast, or else he can ride on a hill pony.”

At last Captain Flint said, “I must be getting back. Your camp fire is very jolly, but isn’t it about time some of you people went to bed?”

“Won’t you be lonely without the parrot?” said Titty.

“I must think of him too,” said Captain Flint. “He’s a young parrot and I’m a dull companion for him. He’s in better hands now.”

He got up to go down to his boat.

“By the way,” he said, “are all your tents pretty strong? It looks to me as if we’re in for bad weather before morning.”

“Mother says ours are all right except in a high wind,” said Captain John.

“H’m! It looks as if it’s going to blow. Well, I don’t suppose you’ll come to much harm, even if it does.”

He rowed away.

Not long afterwards, the Swallows and Amazons turned in. It was very hot and there were no stars.

“Pouf,” said Nancy, “I can hardly breathe.”

“Barometer’s gone down another tenth,” called Captain John. “That’s three-tenths since this morning.”

“Is that a lot?” asked Peggy.

“Rather a lot,” said John. “Are you ready, Roger? I’m going to blow the candle out.”

Titty had the parrot cage close beside her in the mate’s tent. She took the blue cover off. “He won’t want it now,” she said. “He’ll be in the same dark as us. Good night, Polly!”

“Pieces of eight,” rapped out the parrot, excited by the candlelight in the white tent. “Pieces of eight, pieces of eight, pieces of eight.” It went on saying “Pieces of eight,” as fast as if it were counting treasure.

Nancy Blackett’s laugh sounded from the tent at the other side of the camp.

Then Mate Susan blew out the candle lantern. There was darkness in the tent and, in the sudden silence that came with the darkness, it was as if she had blown out the parrot.

“Good night,” “Good night,” the Swallows and Amazons called to each other. Their last night on the island had begun.

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All this time the skies had smiled on the Swallows and the Amazons. There had been a few hours’ drizzling rain, a few hours of fog and that dark night of sordid burglary and high adventure. But day after day had been dry and clear and, even when there had been clouds, there had also been sunshine and wind to drive their shadows, chasing each other, over the bright heather and bracken of the hills. Now that it was time for the Swallows to go, there came a sudden change of weather to remind them that the summer too was near its end. All that last day there had been the heaviness of thunder in the air. There had been a stormy sunset and, though there had been but little wind, dark, angry clouds had lifted in the south until at night they shut out all the stars.

The storm broke with a sharp crash of thunder that woke the whole camp. With it came a sharp flickering light as bright as day. There was the wild shriek of a parrot, as if it were one of a flock screaming through the palm trees in a tropical hurricane. Then darkness and quiet. Then heavy drops of rain pattering down on the tents.

Titty woke, not comfortably, bit by bit, but with every bit of herself at once. She did not move, except to put out her hand and touch the parrot’s cage. “Susan,” she whispered.

“All right, Titty,” said Susan.

Roger in the captain’s tent sat up with a start and a shout. “He’s firing! He’s going to fire again!” He was back in the battle of Houseboat Bay and his voice died into a breathless “John!” as he woke to find himself in the dark.

“All right, Roger,” said John, “it’s only thunder.”

“Where are you going, Nancy?” said Peggy. At hearing the first drops of rain, Nancy was up and lighting their lantern.

“To bring some firewood in, of course,” said Nancy. “Don’t you remember the last time it rained and all the wood got wet and we couldn’t get our fire to light.”

She was back in a moment with a bundle of sticks from the pile.

“It’s not raining much yet,” she said, “but it’s going to.”

She wriggled back into her sleeping-bag.

There was another flash of lightning that lit the tents and threw leaping shadows on their white walls from the branches of the trees overhead.

“Never mind, Polly,” said Titty, “it’ll soon be over.”

“Pretty Polly,” said the parrot, now thoroughly awake.

One flash followed another and then there were three tremendous crashes of thunder and a lot of little ones as if the sky were breaking into solid bits and rattling down a steep iron roof.

“There’s a broadside for you,” called Nancy Blackett from her tent.

“Pieces of eight,” said the parrot, and then, perhaps thinking of palm trees again, gave a long wild shriek.

“Would you like me to put your cloth over you?” said Titty.

“What time is it, John?” called Susan.

“Four bells of the middle watch,” said Captain John, who had looked at the chronometer with his pocket torch and had just put it into ship’s time for himself.

“What is it in real time?” asked Peggy.

“Two o’clock in the morning,” said Captain John. After all, there were some things these Amazons did not know.

There was a gust of wind and then a heavier pattering of rain on the tents and after that it was as if the rain were coming down in solid lumps of water that splashed and broke on the thin canvas.

“It’s coming through,” said Roger. “I can feel it.”

“Don’t touch the wall of the tent,” said John.

“I’m not, but it’s coming through all the same.”

“It’s coming through our tent too,” said Susan. “Titty, you’d better cover up the parrot.”

“I have, but I don’t believe he likes it.”

There was more lightning and more thunder. The rain stopped for a moment and then poured down again.

“John,” called Susan.

“Yes.”

“Better get into our clothes and then we can keep them dry under the blankets. Have you got your oilies?”

“Yes. Have you?”

“I’ll get them in a minute. I’m lighting our lantern. Spread your oilies over your blankets. Roger too.”

Susan bustled Titty into her clothes and got into her own. Roger and John pulled on their knickerbockers. There was the sound of a squabble in the tent of the Amazons.

“Don’t put your head under, Peggy. Get dressed like the others.”

There was a glare of lightning and a crash of thunder all in one, and after that for a long time the thunder and lightning came so close one after the other that no one knew which flash belonged to which clap of thunder. The camp was full of light and the rolling, crashing thunder overhead made things seem hurried, as if there was something that ought to be done but no time in which to do it. The lanterns were lit but, though they were bright in the short moments of darkness, they seemed to give no light at all in the glare of the lightning flashes.

It was dark again and suddenly quiet. It was as if the storm were holding its breath. Then there was a deep, rushing noise, far away, louder and louder every moment.