Arthur Ransome - Swallows and Amazons (Complete Series)

“What’s that?” said Titty.

“Wind,” said Susan.

“I say,” said Titty, “this is a storm.”

As she said it the wind reached them.

There was a crash as a heavy branch fell somewhere at the low end of the island. There was a swishing noise as the trees swayed in the wind. Nor was the noise all. The tents of the Swallows were hung on ropes between trees and held down by stones in pockets along the bottom edges of the tent walls. The trees were blown this way and that and the rope now slackened, now tightened up again so hard that in the captain’s tent the stones shifted and rattled in the pockets.

“Hullo, Susan,” called John. “Have you got enough stones to hold your tent down? Our tent’s getting smaller.”

“Ours is all right,” shouted Susan, “the stones haven’t moved yet.”

“What?” shouted John. “I can’t hear.”

“Our stones are all right,” shouted Susan. But she spoke too soon. There was a loud crack. The stones had been heavy enough, but a furious jerk of the trees had snapped the wet taut rope on which her tent was hung. The whole tent flopped down, a mass of wet canvas, burying Susan and Titty and the parrot in its folds, knocking over their candle lantern and putting it out.

From the other tents, they heard the crack, an angry scream from the parrot as its cage fell over, and then muffled shrieks of “Help! Help!”

John and Nancy were out of their tents in a moment. John had his torch, but there was no need to use it, for a long, flickering glare of lightning showed them the grey wet mass of the mate’s tent on the ground with something struggling under it. They lifted the end of the tent where the door had been. Mate Susan and Able-seaman Titty crawled out on all fours, the able-seaman dragging the parrot’s cage, which had lost its blue cloth.

“Come into our tent, quick,” Nancy shouted in the roaring of the wind.

“What about our things?” shouted Susan.

“And Polly’s blue cloak?” shouted Titty.

“Wet anyway. Leave them,” shouted Nancy, and indeed it was the only thing to do.

Shielding the parrot from the wind and rain as best she could, Titty ran into the Amazons’ tent, where she found Peggy, who was very glad to see her. Susan followed.

“We ought to have got our lantern out,” she said. “You’ve only got a stump of a candle left.”

“Do you think the trees are coming down?” said Peggy.

“They’d be down before now if they were coming,” said Susan.

“Poor Polly,” said Titty, but the parrot corrected her. He was smoothing down the feathers that had been fluffed out in the wind.

“Pretty Polly,” he said.

“I don’t believe he minds losing his blue cloak,” said Titty.

“Is your tent going too?” shouted Captain Nancy in the wind.

“I hope not,” said Captain John.

“What?”

“I hope not,” he shouted in her ear.

The wind was blowing across the island in great gusts that shook the little trees like grass. Overhead the tall pine that was the lighthouse creaked and groaned. For a moment or two it was pitch dark, and then the lightning lit up the sky so that everything was as clear as in daylight. With each gust, Captain John’s tent clapped like a loose jib on a ship going about in a squall and there was a rattle of stones.

Roger crawled out into the rain.

“It’s getting smaller and smaller,” he said. “It’s spilling the stones out of the pockets.”

Nancy and John could not hear him, but they could see the tent thrashing about.

Nancy grabbed him by the scruff of the neck as he crawled out and ran him to the Amazons’ tent and pushed him in. “You’ll be dry, anyhow,” she said. Then she went back to Captain John, who had struggled into his flapping tent and brought out the two things that mattered most, the chronometer and the barometer. In one of the lightning flashes he held up the barometer.

“It’s gone down four-tenths,” he shouted.

“Come along into our tent,” shouted Nancy. “Bring the big lantern if you can get it.”

Captain John gave her the barometer and put the chronometer in his pocket. He forced his way once more into the whirling jumble of canvas that had been his tent. He found the lantern and fought his way out again.

“There’s nothing more to be done,” shouted Nancy. “Come on.”

They went into the Amazons’ tent, where the candle lantern was guttering out. John lit the big lantern and put it in the middle of the floor. Nancy hurried out again to slacken the ropes of her tent. Then she came in and closed the flaps of the door.

“Our tent has its back to the wind,” she said. “All the big winds come from the south. That’s why we chose this place for it. The poles at each end help it too. Our tent’ll stand anything.”

“Did you get very wet?” said Mate Susan.

“Rather,” said Captain John.

“I’m soaked,” said Nancy. “Lovely.”

There was not much room for the six of them and the parrot cage in the Amazons’ tent. They sat three on each of the sleeping-bags. Between them right at the back of the tent was the bundle of dry firewood that Nancy had rescued for the morning. Then there was the parrot’s cage, and then the farm lantern in the middle of the floor. It was a tight pack on each side, because they had to take care not to touch the tent walls. The weather outside seemed to matter less now that they were all together. Even Peggy, who really could not help not liking thunder, was cheerful again, partly because it would never do to show Roger that she was afraid. With Nancy it was different. Nancy knew, so that with her it was no use pretending. Susan was a little worried about the things getting wet, but glad that no worse had happened. John was thinking how lucky it was that the storm had waited till their last night. Nancy was proud of her strong tent and enjoyed the wind buffeting against it. Titty, with sparkling eyes, was thinking of typhoons. The parrot was putting his feathers to rights and now and then whistling cheerfully at the bright lantern so near him on the floor.

For some time they sat there, listening to the storm raging over the island. Then, ashamed that he had not remembered them earlier, John thought of the boats. “I’m going to have a look at Swallow,” he said.

“Shiver my timbers,” said Captain Nancy. “There’s Amazon too. It’s a good thing we moored them properly last night.”

The two captains got on their feet. Nancy unfastened the tent flaps.

“Better fasten them up again when we’re outside,” she said.

“I’m coming too,” said Titty. “The parrot’ll be all right now.”

“You’ll only get wet,” said Susan.

“I am wet,” said Titty. “I couldn’t be wetter. I want to see it. We may never have another storm as good as this one.”

“I’m going too,” said Roger.

WIND, RAIN AND LIGHTNING

“No, you are not,” said the mate, “you’re dry.”

“I’ll tell you what you can do, Roger,” said John. “You can lend Captain Nancy your torch. Her lantern’s no good and you’ll want the big one in the tent.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Roger. If he could not go, at least his torch could, and that was better than nothing.

Titty, John, and Nancy slipped out of the tent into the storm. Using the torches and bending low against the wind and rain, they forced their way along the path to the harbour. There was a lot of water in the boats and the lake had already risen a little, but the Swallow and the Amazon, moored as they were, were quite all right.