The Secret Island - Blyton Enid - Страница 12

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“Let’s play a game,” said Jack. “Let’s play...”

But what game Jack wanted the others never knew - for Jack suddenly stopped, sat up very straight, and stared fixedly down the blue, sparkling lake. The others sat up and stared, too. And what they saw gave them a dreadful shock!

“Some people in a boat!” said Jack. “Do you see them? Away down there!”

“Yes,” said Mike, going pale. “Are they after us, do you think?”

“No,” said Jack, after a while. “I think I can hear a gramophone - and if it was anyone after us they surely wouldn’t bring that! They are probably just trippers, from the village at the other end of the lake.”

“Do you think they’ll come to the island?” asked Peggy.

“I don’t know,” said Jack. “They may - but anyway it would only be for a little while. If we can hide all traces of our being here they won’t know a thing about us.”

“Come on, then,” said Mike, slipping off the rock. “We’d better hurry. It won’t be long before they’re here.”

The children hurried down to the beach. Jack and Mike stamped out the fire, and carried the charred wood to the bushes. They scattered clean sand over the place where they had the fire. They picked up all their belongings and hid them.

“I don’t think anyone would find Willow House,” said Jack. “The trees really are too thick all round it for any tripper to bother to squeeze through.”

“What about the hens?” said Peggy.

“We’ll catch them and pop them into a sack just for now,” said Jack. “The hen-yard will have to stay. I don’t think anyone will find it - it’s well hidden. But we certainly couldn’t have the hens clucking away there!”

“And Daisy the cow?” said Peggy, looking worried.

“We’ll watch and see which side of the island the trippers come,” said Jack. “As far as I know, there is only one landing-place, and that is our beach. As Daisy is right on the other side of the island, they are not likely to see her unless they go exploring. And let’s hope they don’t do that!”

“Where shall we hide?” said Nora.

“We’ll keep a look-out from the hill, hidden in the bracken,” said Jack. “If the trippers begin to wander about, we must just creep about in the bracken and trust to luck they won’t see us. There’s one thing - they won’t be looking for us, if they are trippers. They won’t guess there is anyone else here at all!”

“Will they find the things in the cave-larder?” asked Nora, helping to catch the squawking hens.

“Peggy, get some heather and bracken and stuff up the opening to the cave-larder,” said Jack. Peggy ran off at once. Jack put the hens gently into the sack one by one and ran up the hill with them. He went to the other side of the hill and came to one of the caves he knew. He called to Nora, who was just behind him.

“Nora! Sit at the little opening here and see that the hens don’t get out! I’m going to empty them out of the sack into the cave!”

With much squawking and scuffing and clucking the scared hens hopped out of the sack and ran into the little cave. Nora sat down at the entrance, hidden by the bracken that grew there. No hen could get out whilst she was there.

“The boat is going round the island,” whispered Jack as he parted the bracken at the top of the hill and looked down to the lake below. “They can’t find a place to land. They’re going round to our little beach! Well - Daisy the cow is safe, if they don’t go exploring! Hope she doesn’t moo!”

Nora sat crouched against the entrance of the little cave. She could hear the six hens inside, clucking softly as they scratched about. Jack knelt near her, peering through the bracken, trying to see what the boat was doing.

“Mike has rowed our own boat to where the brambles fall over the water, and has pushed it under them,” said Jack, in a low voice. “I don’t know where he is now. I can’t see him.”

“Where’s Peggy?” whispered Nora.

“Here I am,” said a low voice, and Peggy’s head popped above the bracken a little way down the hill. “I say - isn’t this horrid? I do wish those people would go away.”

The sound of voices came up the hillside from the lake below.

“Here’s a fine landing-place!” said one voice.

“They’ve found our beach,” whispered Jack.

“Pull the boat in,” said a woman’s voice. “We’ll have our supper here. It’s lovely!”

There was the sound of a boat being pulled a little way up the beach. Then the trippers got out.

“I’ll bring the gramophone,” said someone. “You bring the supper things, Eddie.”

“Do you suppose anyone has ever been on this little island before?” said a man’s voice.

“No!” said someone else. “The countryside round about is quite deserted - no one ever comes here, I should think.”

The three children crouched down in the bracken and listened. The trippers were setting out their supper. One of the hens in the cave began to cluck loudly. Nora thought it must have laid an egg.

“Do you hear that noise?” said one of the trippers. “Sounds like a hen to me!”

“Don’t be silly, Eddie,” said a woman’s voice scornfully. “How could a hen be on an island like this! That must have been a blackbird or something.”

Jack giggled. It seemed very funny to him that a hen’s cluck should be thought like a blackbird’s clear song.

"Pass the salt,” said someone. “Thanks. I say! Isn’t this a fine little island! Sort of secret and mysterious. What about exploring it after supper?”

“That’s a good idea,” said Eddie’s voice. “We will!”

The children looked at one another in dismay. Just the one thing they had hoped the trippers wouldn’t do!

“Where’s Mike, do you suppose?” said Peggy, in a low voice. “Do you think he’s hiding in our boat?”

“I expect so,” whispered Jack. “Don’t worry about him. He can look after himself all right.”

“Oh, my goodness! There’s Daisy beginning to moo!” groaned Peggy, as a dismal moo reached her ears. “She knows it is time she was milked.”

“And just wouldn’t I like a cup of milk!” said Jack, who was feeling very thirsty.

“Can you hear that cow mooing somewhere?” said one of the trippers, in surprise.

“I expect it’s a cow in a field on the mainland,” said another lazily. “You don’t suppose there is a cow wandering loose on this tiny island, do you, Eddie?”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Eddie, in a puzzled voice. “Look over there. Doesn’t that look like a footprint in the sand to you?”

The children held their breath. Could it be true that they had left a footprint on the sand?

“And see here,” went on the tripper, holding up something. “Here’s a piece of string I found on this beach. String doesn’t grow, you know.”

“You are making a great mystery about nothing,” said one of the women crossly. “Other trippers have been here, that’s all.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Eddie. “But all the same, I’m going to explore the island after supper!”

“Oh, put on the gramophone, Eddie.” said someone. “I’m tired of hearing you talk so much.”

Soon the gramophone blared through the air, and the children were glad, for they knew it would drown any sound of Daisy’s mooing or the hens’ clucking. They sat in the bracken, looking scared and miserable. They did not like anyone else sharing their secret island. And what would happen if the trippers did explore the island and found the children?

Nora began to cry softly. Tears ran down her cheeks and fell on her hands. Jack looked at her and then crept silently up. He slipped his arm round her.

“Don’t cry, Nora,” he said. “Perhaps they won’t have time to explore. It is getting a bit dark now. Do you see that big black cloud coming up? It will make the night come quickly, and perhaps the trippers will think there’s a storm coming and row off.”

Nora dried her eyes and looked up. There certainly was a big black cloud.

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