THEY WOKE SOON after dawn after a restless night. Wriggling their bones because a sleeping-bag is not much of a mattress when you sleep on a wooden floor, they scrambled up, and remembered the visitor they had not seen.
‘It’s no good looking at the table,’ said John. ‘The books have gone.’
‘I thought perhaps I’d dreamed it,’ said Titty.
‘I wish you had,’ said John. ‘What I can’t understand is why whoever it was didn’t touch anything else.’
‘Somebody get the kettle filled,’ said Susan, who was already busy with the Primus.
Roger was off in a moment. John and Titty followed him, round the queer Chinese house where they had slept, and down among the trees towards the place where John had found that trickle of fresh water. Roger, running ahead with the kettle, stopped short and came darting back.
‘Man in a boat,’ he said. ‘Coming this way.’
‘Crouch!’ said John, and all three of them dropped into hiding.
‘What sort of a man?’ whispered Titty.
‘There he is,’ whispered Roger. ‘Look at his hat.’
The man was sitting in the stern of a long, brown punt. He was not hurrying. Working a paddle only now and then, he was moving crabwise across the channel between their island and the great cliff on which the morning light showed up that climbing track. His hat, yellow and round, going up to a point in the middle, seemed as big as an umbrella. Along the gunwale of his punt was a row of ten or a dozen black lumps. Suddenly one of them stirred and spread and shook black wings.
‘Cormorants,’ breathed Titty.
Just then, close to the punt, they saw the long head and neck of a cormorant with a fish in its beak showing above the water. The bird came alongside, and the fisherman scooped it into the punt with a net.
‘He’s emptying it,’ said Roger, as they saw the fisherman holding the cormorant while another three or four fish fell from its open beak.
‘There’s another,’ said Titty.
‘’Sh!’ said John.
Another cormorant came up by the punt, was scooped out, emptied and set on the gunwale to flap and dry its wings. The punt was coming nearer. The fisherman laid down his paddle, prodded over the side with a long bamboo, found bottom and began poling his punt over the shallows close along the island shore.
John made up his mind.
‘He’s harmless enough,’ he said. ‘Just a fisherman.’
‘He might give us some of those fish,’ said Roger.
‘He doesn’t look as if he knows English,’ said Titty.
‘He isn’t a pirate, anyway,’ said John. ‘I’m going to hail him. Come on.’
They stood up.
‘Ahoy!’ called John.
There was a sharp echo from the opposite cliff. The fisherman, standing in the stern of his punt, slowly poling it along, looked at the cliff, looked towards the island and saw John, Titty and Roger standing there and waving to him.
The punt swayed violently. For a moment they thought the fisherman was going to capsize her. He shouted something. He steadied himself, shouted again and, instead of bringing his punt in, drove it into deeper water, dropped his pole, took his paddle and paddled away as if for his life.
‘Ahoy! Ahoy!’ shouted John and Roger.
‘We’re friends,’ shouted Titty.
He only paddled the faster.
‘What’s he frightened about?’ said Roger.
‘Did you hear what he shouted?’ asked Titty.
‘Something or other in Chinese,’ said John.
‘He said something about Missee Lee,’ said Titty. ‘I heard “Missee Lee” quite plainly, twice.’
‘You couldn’t have, really,’ said John. ‘When people talk a foreign language it sounds just like one long gabble.’
‘No need to hide now,’ said Roger. ‘Let’s go out on the jetty.’
They went out there, and stood watching the fisherman until he was out of sight.
‘Do you think he took the books?’ said Roger.
‘I don’t believe he knew anybody was here,’ said Titty.
‘The person who took the books,’ said John, ‘may have come from straight across. You can see there’s a landing-place. Or he may have come from the same place as that fisherman.’
‘It wasn’t a he,’ said Roger. ‘Look at this.’ He held out a long tortoiseshell pin with a green knob on the end of it. ‘It was lying just here. She must have dropped it getting into her boat.’
‘Sort of hairpin,’ said John. ‘Look here. Susan’ll be raging. What about that water?’
They filled the kettle and took it back to Susan and told her what had happened, and showed her the pin.
‘Which way did he go?’ asked Susan.
John pointed. ‘He went across and then along under the cliff. He’ll have gone to that harbour round the corner, where people were letting off fireworks last night.’
‘Oh well,’ said Susan. ‘He’ll tell the harbour people, and they’ll send a boat.’ She put the kettle on the stove. ‘John, you open three tins of sardines.’
‘It was somebody else took the books,’ said Roger, looking at the pin with its big green knob.
‘We’ll put it on the table where the books were,’ said Titty. ‘So that she’ll find it when she comes again.’
‘You know what it means?’ said John, licking sardine oil from his fingers before going on to pemmican and dates. ‘Some of us’ll have to stay here, in case people come.’
‘They’re sure to now,’ said Titty, ‘when the cormorant fisher tells them he’s seen us.’
‘I know,’ said John. ‘But what about looking out for Amazon? Some of us’ll have to keep watch on the other side of the island as well.’
‘Titty and Roger,’ said Susan at once. ‘If they see Amazon or anybody coming in from the sea they’ll have plenty of time to slip back here for us. But if people come here, we’ve got to explain about using their house and the Primus and everything. At least I have. And if people come from the harbour John ought to be here to tell them where they ought to send a ship to look for the others.’
‘I’ll stay here,’ said Roger.
‘No good Titty being there alone,’ said John. ‘There ought to be two of you . . . one to signal to Amazon and one to bolt back and fetch us.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Roger. ‘Three of us. I’ll take Gibber.’
‘And I’ll take Polly,’ said Titty, putting a fresh supply of parrot food in the feeding-box in the cage, and putting a handful in her pocket in case of need.
‘Have a look at Swallow and see she’s all right,’ John called after them as they went off along the path dappled with shadow and sunlight under the trees.
They came to Titty’s blaze, now covered with dead butterflies and moths drowned in the syrup that had oozed out of the tree. Their own trail was clear enough. Anybody could see by the cut climbers and trampled undergrowth that people had passed that way. They hurried down to the cove to find Swallow lying as they had left her, except for a large green lizard with a blue head that was sunning itself on the gunwale.
‘Regular dragon,’ said Roger. ‘Let’s keep it.’
But the lizard gave him no chance. There was a quick green flicker down the side of the boat and the lizard was gone.
‘Come along,’ said Titty. ‘We’ll see lots more and we ought to have been at the stone seat hours ago.’
‘We’ll never see a bigger dragon than that,’ said Roger.
They forced their way back to the path and hurried on till they came to the stone seat.
‘We needn’t have hurried,’ said Roger. ‘There’s nothing in sight.’
There was a dead calm. The sun blazed down on a deserted sea. Away to the left green forest and the long hill behind it was reflected in the glassy water. They lay by the stone chair, watching. The ship’s parrot went on with its breakfast and Gibber was eating some green bananas from the tree that Roger had found when they landed. An hour passed, perhaps more. Suddenly, far away, they heard the beating of a gong and a faint noise of shouting.
‘It isn’t exactly harbour noises,’ said Titty.
‘No cranes,’ said Roger. ‘And no dredger, and no pile-driver and nobody banging rust off the side of a ship.’
‘Just people,’ said Titty. ‘I wish we could see what they’re like.’
‘We’ve seen one, anyway,’ said Roger. ‘That man with the cormorants. Gosh! I never thought we’d see anybody really fishing with them. Do you remember when we tried to be cormorants when we saw them on the lake?’
‘That was a million years ago,’ said Titty. ‘It was before the first time we went sailing in the Wild Cat.’
‘Pretty beastly not having her any more,’ said Roger.
‘Yes,’ said Titty.
‘And having to go home in a steamer after all,’ said Roger. ‘But we’ve still got Swallow. And Nancy and Peggy have still got Amazon. And Captain Flint’s still got the old houseboat.’
‘It isn’t the same thing,’ said Titty.
‘He’ll buy another schooner, I bet,’ said Roger.
But Titty said nothing. Swallow and her crew were all right. They soon would be, anyway. But where were the others? What if no one had picked them up and all day yesterday and all night and even now Amazon was lying out there under the blazing sun, with no land in sight, and their rations getting shorter and the water getting used up. How did that poem go? ‘Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.’ John and Susan had never said that there was any danger. But she had seen their faces when they were talking to each other. She stared out to sea and shook her head because of a mist in her eyes. There was a blinding glare off the water. It was easier to look at the green trees and brown hills . . .
‘Ahoy!’ she shouted suddenly at the top of her voice.
‘What is it?’ cried Roger, startled.
‘Look, look,’ she almost whispered. ‘Is that Amazon, or isn’t it?’ She was tugging at her pocket to get out the telescope. ‘Over there . . . Without her mast . . . Slipping along the shore . . . There . . . There . . . Between us and the trees.’
Never had the telescope been so hard to focus. She got it right at last.
‘It’s them! It’s them! I can see Peggy and Nancy . . . But she isn’t rowing . . . She’s paddling . . . Captain Flint isn’t there. She’s paddling like mad . . . But, I say, they’re going away, not coming in. Stern first. There must be a current. Quick. Let’s get Swallow . . . No . . . Roger . . . I’ll look after Gibber. You bolt for John and Susan. I’ve got to keep her in sight.’
‘Let me look,’ demanded Roger.
She grabbed Gibber’s lead and gave Roger the telescope. Roger took one look through it, pushed it at Titty and was gone, elbows out, head back, running as if in a race at school.
Titty wriggled her arms into the canvas slings that let her carry the parrot-cage on her back and have her hands free. She stared through her telescope. Yes, there was Amazon, with Nancy frantically paddling, moving stern first out to sea.
‘Ahoy!’ Too far away. Peggy had her back to her and she could see by the splashes how Nancy was paddling. How soon would John be at the cove? He would want help to get Swallow out. It had taken all four of them to pull her up. But till the very last minute she must keep Amazon in sight. And then she saw that Amazon seemed nearer to that distant shore. Nancy must have worked her out of the worst of the current. She was no longer going backwards. She was getting nearer to those trees. And then, just as Titty heard John and Roger shouting together, Amazon disappeared. She had seen Amazon with the trees behind her. Now there were only trees. Creek or something, thought Titty, and, with her eyes on the place where Amazon had been, she remembered a dodge from old days. She took marks. ‘Coming! Coming!’ she shouted. Just over that place was a tall palm tree high above the rest, and over that there was a dip in the skyline of the hill behind the forest. She looked at them again to make sure and then, with the parrot-cage jolting on her back, the parrot screaming and Gibber scurrying and leaping beside her, she ran to join the others.
‘Look here, Titty,’ said John, the moment she reached the little cove. ‘Are you dead sure? It wasn’t only Roger who saw them?’
‘You know what Roger is,’ said Susan.
‘We both saw them,’ said Roger.
‘I know it’s them,’ said Titty. ‘Nancy and Peggy in Amazon. Something had gone wrong and Nancy was paddling her, not rowing. They were drifting stern first, but they worked her into the trees and then I couldn’t see them any more.’
‘Have you got marks to find the place?’
‘A tree and a dip on the skyline.’
‘That’s all right. We’ll go after them. You see there’s something happening on the cliff. There were people on the top and then we saw them coming down. They’ll be coming across.’
‘We can get back to meet them,’ said Susan. ‘Finding Captain Flint and the others matters most.’
‘We didn’t see Captain Flint,’ said Titty.
‘If you’re dead sure you saw the others Captain Flint won’t be far off. The same thing must have happened to them that happened to us. Perhaps we’ve been quite near each other all the time. Anyway, it’ll be all right now. Get hold of the gunwale, opposite Roger. Susan and I’ll take the stern. Now then. Lift!’
They all lifted together. ‘Come on,’ said John. ‘One more heave and we’ll have her afloat.’
Swallow’s stern was floating. Her stem still rested on the shore. They climbed aboard, Titty first with the parrot-cage, then Susan, then Gibber, then Roger, and, last of all, John pushed her off and came in over the bows as she floated away.
‘Rowlocks!’ said John. ‘Oh, well done, Roger. You come in the bows now and look out for rocks.’
‘Oh bother, bother,’ said Titty. ‘If only it wasn’t a dead calm.’
‘Can’t be helped,’ said John.
‘Let me take an oar,’ said Susan.
‘I’ll get her clear first,’ said John. Already he was turning her round and working her slowly out of the cove. ‘No good getting her stove in,’ he said to himself, ‘and not getting there at all.’
Outside the cove he rowed along the island shore to put her near the place where the stone seat was, so that Titty could pick up her marks exactly as she had seen them first.
‘There’s the stone chair,’ said Roger.
‘Now, Titty,’ said John.
‘Not in line yet,’ said Titty. ‘The dip in the skyline’s a long way right of the tree.’
John rowed on.
‘Getting nearer,’ said Titty. ‘They’re coming into line . . . Now.’
‘We’ll keep them so,’ said John. ‘You watch them and be compass. If you’ll take an oar, Susan, we’ll heave her along. I’ll row in the bows. Roger, you go aft. Susan on the middle thwart. And do keep Gibber out of the way.’
In another moment they were ready. ‘Now then, Susan,’ said John.
‘I say,’ said Titty, after a few minutes, ‘it looked as if there was a pretty strong current between us and that shore.’
‘You watch the marks,’ said John. ‘You’ll soon see if we’re being swept off our course.’
‘What sort of people were coming down the cliff?’ asked Roger.
‘Couldn’t see,’ said John. ‘You had the telescope.’
‘How many people?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘More than one?’
‘Yes.’
‘More than two?’
‘Don’t talk,’ said John. ‘We’ve got to row.’
‘Well, how many?’
‘A good lot,’ said John.
‘Forty or fifty,’ said Susan. ‘And there was a lot of queer whistling.’
‘That fisherman’s stirred them up,’ said Roger. ‘Or it may be the person who took those books and saw that Susan had been using their Primus.’
‘They’ll know we’re coming back,’ panted Susan. ‘We’ve left our sleeping-bags and things.’
‘Pull, Susan,’ said Titty. ‘The gap’s slipping away from the tree.’
‘Current,’ said John, looking at Titty’s hand, which, like a compass needle was pointing always in one direction, towards the place where Amazon had disappeared into those distant trees.
‘Pull, Susan,’ said Titty again.
‘Never mind about the compass-pointing,’ said John. ‘No good if we’re in a current. We’ll have to go crabwise. You just keep telling us when the marks are in line and when they’re not.’
‘They’re not,’ said Titty. ‘The gap’s open to the right. It’s still moving to the right . . . Now it’s stopped . . . Now it’s moving to the left . . . In line.’
‘It’s going to be a pretty tough pull,’ said John.
‘They’ll see us coming and wait for us,’ said Roger.
‘They won’t go far from Amazon,’ said Titty.
‘It’s going to take a long time,’ said John. ‘Those people coming down the cliff are going to be on the island before we get back.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Susan. ‘Nothing matters, if only we’re all together again.’
‘I bet they thought we were drowned,’ said Roger.
‘Gap’s moving away again,’ said Titty. ‘Pull, Susan.’
‘Hullo,’ cried Roger. ‘I can see that junk that came in last night. There’s a river in there.’
‘That’s why there’s a current,’ panted John.
‘There’s a sort of square tower a bit above the junk,’ said Roger. ‘And one on the other side . . . And more junks further in. But, I say, I can’t see anything like a harbour.’
‘No, don’t look, Susan. Keep on pulling,’ said John.
‘How are the marks?’ he asked a few minutes later, seeing Titty glancing away from them towards the mouth of the river.
‘All right,’ said Titty, finding them again. ‘In line, I mean.’
‘They might wave a flag or something,’ said Roger.
‘Perhaps they haven’t seen us yet,’ said Titty. ‘What’ll they say when they do?’
‘I know what Nancy’ll say,’ Roger grinned.
‘What?’
‘Barbecued billygoats,’ said Roger.
‘Oh, do shut up,’ said John, and even Roger, looking at the sweat pouring down John’s face, was silent for a long time. He looked at Susan. She was rowing with her eyes shut, pulling, pulling with all her weight.
‘Let us row for a bit,’ said Titty.
‘No,’ said Susan.
‘The gap’s open to the left,’ said Titty.
‘Good,’ said John. ‘We must be getting out of the current. Easy a bit, Susan. Nearly there. Can you see where they went in?’
‘Not yet.’
At last they were able to head straight for the shore. With every moment they were nearer to the trees.
‘I can’t see the dip in the hill any longer,’ said Titty. ‘Only trees. But I can see where they went.’
John looked over his shoulder. ‘I’ll paddle in,’ he said. ‘Well done, old Susan. Roger, you go to the bows again.’
‘Good,’ said Roger.
‘Mangoes,’ said John. ‘Pretty nearly awash. We’ve been a long time. Bother that beastly current.’
Already he was rowing in between queer huge-leaved trees. There was a din of insects.
‘Amazon ahoy!’ shouted Roger. ‘There she is. But there’s no one in her.’
‘They’ll be close to,’ said Susan.
‘Let’s do a hail all together,’ said Roger.
‘Wait just a minute,’ said John.
Swallow slid on into the little creek where Amazon was lying, her painter fast to a tree and her stem pulled up on swampy ground.
‘Can’t we find a drier place to land?’ said Susan. ‘Look at the holes they’ve made with their feet.’
‘They must have been in a hurry,’ said John. ‘There’s a better place. Take your shoes off, Roger.’
‘They are off,’ said Roger indignantly. He had begun taking them off as soon as he had seen where Amazon was tied up.
‘Ready, now.’ John gave a hard pull. They felt Swallow’s keel sliding through soft mud. She stopped. Roger jumped clear and landed on a huge tree root. He grabbed her bows. In another moment John too was ashore and looking at Amazon.
‘They’ve taken their oars,’ he said. ‘Hidden them probably.’
‘Nancy wasn’t rowing,’ said Titty.
‘She must have lost her oars,’ said John. ‘Using a bottom board. Look at the mud on it. She must have done that coming in here.’
Susan and Titty came ashore.
‘You can see where they went,’ said John. ‘Funny. No hoofmarks of Captain Flint. But a lot of others. Barefooted.’
‘He wasn’t with them,’ said Titty. ‘They’ll have gone to fetch him.’
‘That’s the way they went,’ said John. ‘There are their tracks. They’ve gone along the shore. Towards the mouth of the river.’ He thought a moment and made up his mind. ‘Look here, we’ll go after them. Susan and I. I’ll come back the moment we’ve found them. Titty and Roger stay here and look after both boats.’
‘Oh, I say,’ said Roger.
‘Somebody’s got to.’
‘Much better,’ said Susan. ‘And there’s Gibber and Polly. Look after the boats between you. We’ll bring the others. We’ll have to go back to the island, anyhow, to fetch our things and explain about using that house.’
‘Aye, aye, sir,’ said Titty.
‘But be quick,’ said Roger. ‘We want to see them too.’
John and Susan, following the tracks in the soft ground, hurried off and were instantly out of sight among the trees.
