Swallows and Amazons. Arthur Ransome

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СКАЧАТЬ that everything was ready to show the visitors. The captain put his tin box, the big one, against the back of his tent in the middle. He took the little barometer out of it and hung it on the fastener in front of the box. There was nothing else in the tent, so that it was very neat indeed. Titty and the mate had made their tent much more home-like. In the middle of it were the biscuit tins, with the food in them. These tins made two seats. Then at each side of the tent, where their beds were going to be, they had spread out their blankets and folded in the tops of them. The cooking things were neatly arranged in one corner, just inside the tent. Outside the tent, on the rope on which the tent was hung, two towels were drying. Captain John looked in and then went back to his own tent and spread his and Roger’s blankets in the same way. They certainly made the tent look more as if it had been lived in. And, after all, it would be no bother to put the haybags under them when they came. Mate Susan put a few more sticks on the fire, to make a cheerful blaze. Then they went back to the others.

      “The natives will soon be here,” said Titty. “Shall we show them the harbour?”

      “No,” said Captain John, “you never know with natives, even friendly ones. We’ll keep Swallow hid. It isn’t as if mother were by herself.”

      “Besides,” said Susan, “they are bringing the haybags, and the landing-place is close to the camp. It’ll be much easier to carry them from there than through the thicket at the low end of the island.”

      All the crew of the Swallow stood up and pointed to the east. Mother, the female native in the stern of the rowing boat, pointed between the island and the mainland on the eastern side, to show that she knew what they meant. She said something to the native at the oars, and he glanced over his shoulder, and, pulling strongly with his left for a stroke or two, altered his course.

      They were passing the head of the island. Roger had already run to the landing-place. The others of the Swallow were close behind him and when the native ran his boat ashore, the whole ship’s company were on the beach, ready to help him to pull the boat up.

      “But what have you done with your Ship?” asked mother. “Where is the Swallow?”

      “Allawallacallacacuklacaowlacaculla,” said Titty. “That means that we can’t possibly tell you because you’re a native . . . a nice native, of course.”

      “Burroborromjeeboomding,” said mother. “That means that I don’t care where she is so long as she is all right.”

      “She’s in a splendid place,” said Captain John.

      “Shall I interpret for you?” said Titty gently.

      “As a matter of fact,” said mother, the female native, “I’ve picked up quite a lot of English what with talking to you, but I’ll wallacallawalla instead if you’d rather I did.”

      “If you know English there’s no need,” said John.

      “Glook,” said the female native. “That means, all right. Now I hope you are going to let the natives see your camp, so that we can help to carry up the haybags.”

      Mr. Jackson, the farmer from Holly Howe, had taken all four haybags out of the boat. He was a very powerful, strong native, and he picked up three of the haybags together and hove them up on his shoulders. John and Susan carried the fourth. Roger took the female native by the hand and Titty showed the way to the tents.

      “Well, you have got a lovely camp,” said the female native.

      “Isn’t it?” said Susan. “Would you like to come inside this tent?”

      The female native stooped and went in. Mr. Jackson dumped down his haybags.

      “Come on, Roger,” said John, “let’s get our tent all ready before she comes in.”

      John took hold of one end of a haybag. Roger helped, and between them they pulled first one and then another haybag into their tent. They put one on each side of the tent, punched them and shook them until they were fairly even and covered them with their folded blankets. Then they lay down, each on his bed.

      Meanwhile Susan and the female native were making up the beds in the other tent. Mr. Jackson had gone back to his boat.

      Presently the female native put her head into the captain’s tent.

      “You look comfortable enough in here,” she said, “but what are you going to do when it gets dark?”

      “We ought to have brought two lanterns,” said John. “I forgot about that. We’ve only got the big lantern for the whole camp.”

      “I’ve brought you two small candle-lanterns, one for each tent if you promise to be careful with them and not set the tents or yourselves on fire. Where is the oil for the big lantern?”

      “Just outside the tent,” said John.

      “You ought to keep it in a safe place well away from the camp and from the fire.”

      Just then that powerful native, Mr. Jackson, came back with another load from the boat.

      “Come along out,” said the female native. “I am not going to stop here now, because Mr. Jackson must be getting back to his farm. But there are several things to be settled. First of all, about the milk. There are no cows on your island, so you will have to go to the mainland for milk. I have arranged with the farm over there, Dixon’s Farm, to let you have a quart of milk every morning. If you want more in the evening, Mrs. Dixon will let you have it. But every morning you must row over there to bring your milk. You can see their landing-place by the big oak tree. Thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

      The powerful native had put down a big basket that he had brought up from the boat. In it was a milk-can and a lot of other things. The female native began taking them out as if she were digging the presents out of a bran pie.

      “Here is the milk-can for you,” she said, “and mind you keep the milk as cool as you can during the day. Keep it out of the sun and do remember to wash the can very clean before you take it up to the farm for more. Then, for to-morrow, I’ve brought you a meat pie Mrs. Jackson cooked to-day. You will soon get tired of living on corned beef.”

      “Pemmican,” said Titty.

      “Pemmican,” said the female native. “So if I were you I should only open a pemmican tin when you haven’t anything else that you can eat without cooking. By the way, Susan is the chief cook, isn’t she?”

      “Yes,” said Captain John.

      “Then I’ll give the stores over to her. There is the pie. Then I’ve brought a box of Force for breakfast. Susan is going to have a busy time without having to cook porridge in the mornings.”

      “I like cooking,” said Mate Susan.

      “If you want to go on liking it,” said the female native, “take my advice and make the others do the washing up.”

      Mr. Jackson came up again from the boat, carrying a big sack.

      “Mrs. Jackson has been good enough to let you have your pillows here,” said the female native. “You can sleep without them, I know, but a pillow makes such a lot of difference that I’m sure Christopher Columbus himself always took his own pillow with him.”

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