Выбери любимый жанр

The Secret Island - Blyton Enid - Страница 6


Изменить размер шрифта:

6

They filled the kettle. It was lovely up there on the hillside in the June sun. Bees hummed and butterflies flew all round. Birds sang, and two or three moorhens cried “Fulluck, fulluck!” from the water below.

“Let’s go to the top of the hill and see if we can spy anyone coming up or down the lake,” said Jack. So they went right up to the top, but not a sign of anyone could they see. The waters of the lake were calm and clear and blue. Not a boat was on it. The children might have been quite alone in the world.

They went down to the girls with the full kettle. Nora and Peggy proudly showed the boys how they had arranged the stores. They had used the big roots for shelves, and the bottom of the little cave they had used for odds and ends, such as Jack’s axe and knife, the hammer and nails, and so on.

“It’s a nice dry place,” said Peggy. “It’s just right for a larder, and it’s so nice and near the cove. Jack, where are we going to build our house?”

Jack took the girls and Mike to the west end of the cove, where there was a thicket of willows. He forced his way through them and showed the others a fine clear place right in the very middle of the trees.

“Here’s the very place,” he said. “No one would ever guess there was a house just here, if we built one! The willows grow so thickly that I don’t suppose anyone but ourselves would ever know they could be got through.”

They talked about their house until they were tired out. They made their way back to the little beach and Jack said they would each have a cup of cocoa, a piece of cake, and go to bed!

He and Mike soon made a fire. There were plenty of dry twigs about, and bigger bits of wood. It did look cheerful to see the flames dancing. Jack could not use his little magnifying glass to set light to the paper or twigs because the sun was not hot enough then. It was sinking down in the west. He used a match. He set the kettle on the fire to boil.

“It would be better to-morrow to swing the kettle over the flames on a tripod of sticks,” he said. “It will boil more quickly then.”

But nobody minded how slowly the kettle boiled.

They lay on their backs in the sand, looking up at the evening sky, listening to the crackle of the wood, and smelling a mixture of wood-smoke and honeysuckle. At last the kettle sent out a spurt of steam, and began to hiss. It was boiling.

Nora made the cocoa, and handed it round in mugs. “There’s no milk,” she said. “But there is some sugar.”

They munched their cake and drank their cocoa. Though it had no milk in it, it was the nicest they had ever tasted.

“I do like seeing the fire,” said Nora. “Oh, Jack, why are you stamping it out?”

“Well,” said Jack, “people may be looking for us to-night, you know, and a spire of smoke from this island would give our hiding-place away nicely! Come on, now, everyone to bed! We’ve hard work to do tomorrow!”

Peggy hurriedly rinsed out the mugs. Then all of them went to their green, heathery bedroom. The sun was gone. Twilight was stealing over the secret island.

“Our first night here!” said Mike, standing up and looking down on the quiet waters of the lake. “We are all alone, the four of us, without a roof over our heads even, but I’m so happy!”

“So am I!” said everyone. The girls went to their hidden green room in the gorse and lay down in their clothes. It seemed silly to undress when they were sleeping out of doors. Mike threw them the old ragged rug.

“Throw that over yourselves,” he said. “It may be cold to-night, sleeping out for the first time. You won’t be frightened, will you?”

“No,” said Peggy. “You two boys will be near, and, anyway, what is there to be frightened of?”

They lay down on the soft heather, and pulled the old rug over them. The springy heather was softer than the old hard bed the two girls had been used to at home. The little girls put their arms round one another and shut their eyes. They were fast asleep almost at once.

But the boys did not sleep so quickly. They lay on their heathery beds and listened to all the sounds of the night. They heard the little grunt of a hedgehog going by. They saw the flicker of bats overhead. They smelt the drifting scent of honeysuckle, and the delicious smell of wild thyme crushed under their bodies. A reed-warbler sang a beautiful little song in the reeds below, and then another answered.

“Is that a blackbird?” asked Mike.

“No, a reed-warbler,” said Jack. “They sing as beautifully as any bird that sings in the daytime! Listen, do you hear that owl?”

“Oooo-ooo-ooo-oooo!” came a long, quivering sound; “ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo!”

“He’s hunting for rats and voles,” said Jack. “I say, look at the stars, Mike?”

“Don’t they seem far away?” said Mike, looking up into the purple night sky, which was set with thousands of bright stars. “I say, Jack, it’s awfully nice of you to come away with us like this and share your secret island.”

“It isn’t nice of me at all,” said Jack. “I wanted to. I’m doing just exactly what I most want to do. I only hope we shan’t be found and taken back, but I’ll take jolly good care no one finds us! I’m laying my plans already!”

But Mike was not listening. His eyes shut, he forgot the owls and the stars; he fell asleep and dreamt of building a house with Jack, a lovely house.

Jack fell asleep, too. And soon the rabbits that lived under their gorse-bush came slyly out and peeped at the sleeping children in surprise. Who were they?

But, as the children did not move, the rabbits grew bold and went out to play just as usual. Even when one ran over Mike by mistake, the little boy did not know it. He was much too fast asleep!

The Building of the House

What fun it was to wake up that first morning on the island! Jack awoke first. He heard a thrush singing so loudly on a tree near by that he woke up with a jump.

“Mind how you do it,” said the thrush, “mind how you do it!”

Jack grinned. “I’ll mind how I do it all right!” he said to the singing thrush. "Hi, Mike! Wake up! The sun is quite high!”

Mike woke and sat up. At first he didn’t remember where he was. Then a broad smile came over his face. Of course - they were all on the secret island! How perfectly glorious!

“Peggy, Nora! Get up!” he cried. The girls awoke and sat up in a hurry. Wherever were they? What was this green bedroom - oh, of course, it was their heathery bedroom on the secret island!

Soon all four children were up and about. Jack made them take off their things and have a dip in the lake. It was simply lovely, but the water felt cold at first. When they had dried themselves on an old sack - for they had no towels - the children felt terribly hungry. But Jack had been busy. He had set his fishing-line, and, even as they bathed, he had seen the float jerk up and down. It was not long before Jack proudly laid four fine trout on the sand of the cove, and set about to make a fire to cook them.

Mike went to fill the kettle to make some tea. Peggy got some big potatoes out of the sack and put them almost in the fire to cook in their skins. Jack found the frying-pan in their storeroom and put a piece of margarine in it to fry the fish, which he knew exactly how to clean.

“I don’t know what we should do without you,” said Mike, as he watched Jack. “Goodness! How I shall enjoy my breakfast!”

They all did. The tea did not taste very nice without milk. “It’s a pity we can’t get milk,” said Jack. “We shall miss that, I’m afraid. Now, Peggy, wash up, and Nora, too. Put everything away - and we’ll start on our house!”

In great excitement everything was washed up and put away. Then Jack led the way through the thick willow-trees, and they came to the little clear place in the centre of them.

“Now, this is how I mean to build the house,” he said. “Do you see these little willow-trees here - one there - one there - two there - and two there. Well, I think you will find that if we climb up and bend down the top branches, they will meet each other nicely in the centre, and we can weave them into one another. That will make the beginning of a roof. With my axe I shall chop down some other young willow-trees, and use the trunk and thicker branches for walls. We can drive the trunks and branches into the ground between the six willow-trees we are using, and fill up any cracks with smaller branches woven across. Then, if we stuff every corner and crevice with bracken and heather, we shall have a fine big house, with a splendid roof, wind-proof and rain-proof. What do you think of that?”

6
Перейти на страницу:

Вы читаете книгу


Blyton Enid - The Secret Island The Secret Island
Мир литературы

Жанры

Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело