Missee Lee: The Swallows and Amazons in the China Seas

  “Alarm bell,” said John.

  “They’ve spotted there’s a dragon missing,” said Roger.

  “They’ve guessed we’ve bolted,” said Nancy.

  “Miss Lee’ll fend them off somehow,” said Titty.

  “She can’t stop them looking for us,” said John.

  “She’ll do her best,” said Titty.

  “Of course she won’t,” said Captain Flint. “She thinks we’re already at sea.”

  “They’ll bring us back,” said Susan. “We shan’t get away after all.”

  “We’re all right, so long as no one saw which way we went when we dodged out of the town,” said Captain Flint. “And I don’t think anyone did … unless that firecracker brat was still tailing after us.”

  “He’d used up his last cracker,” said Roger. “Why should he?”

  “No,” said Captain Flint. “He’d go where there was most noise.”

  “Look out!” said Nancy, “we’re going to be into that junk!”

  “Teach your grandmother,” said Captain Flint, as the huge black shape of a junk loomed up above them. They were well out now on the flooded river, caught already in the main stream sweeping down towards the sea. Another big junk towered above them. There was another ahead. And then another.

  “Why haven’t they put up their riding lights?” said John.

  “Lucky for us they haven’t,” said Captain Flint, “or they’d see us from the shore going past.”

  “It’s a wee bit lighter over there,” said Roger.

  “East,” said Captain Flint. “There’ll be a sunrise some time.”

  “How soon?”

  “Not till we’re out, I hope. But it was so jolly late before we had a chance to slip away.”

  “They’re fairly buzzing in the town,” said Nancy.

  It was hard, looking that way, to see where water ended and land began, but the pirate town began to look like an exploding firework. At first there had been the single glow of the festival, but now lights were moving out from it, threading the darkness. Sound carries well over water and the little worried group on the high poop of the Shining Moon could hear orders being shouted and the monkey-house chatter of the crowd.

  “Let them jabber,” said Captain Flint. … “So long as they don’t think of the creek.”

  “There are lights going that way,” said Titty. “Through the trees … like fireflies. … Look. … You can see them and then they’re gone again.”

  “They can’t see us, can they?” asked Peggy.

  “Gummock,” said Nancy. “We haven’t even flashed a torch.”

  “Too far off,” said Captain Flint. “We’ve got the background of Tiger Island. … Black shadow on black shadow. … No. … They won’t see us. … Not yet.”

  “They’ll know we wouldn’t go upstream,” said John.

  “If they find the boats are gone, they’ll only think it’s the flood,” said Nancy.

  “They won’t think of our grabbing the junk,” said Captain Flint. “They won’t know she’s gone, unless they can see in the dark.”

  “Some of them can,” said Nancy. “Miss Lee’s father could and so can she. She said so when she was telling stories on the little island.”

  “Most of them can’t see any better than we can,” said Captain Flint, but he had hardly said the words before they heard a sudden burst of shouting away in the darkness astern of them.

  “That sounds most awfully as if it came from the creek,” said Roger.

  “She’s a fast little junk,” said Captain Flint. “They won’t catch us in a sampan … and it’ll take them a long time to get their blessed warships under weigh. Some of their chaps’ll be pretty drunk and if any of them have been legs for dragons and are half as stiff as I am they’ll be a bit slow on their pins. …”

  The wind was not strong but it was driving the Shining Moon through the water and the river, sweeping to the sea, was carrying her with it. Before them they could dimly see a watery path, with the reflections of the stars. They could see each other only as black shadows. They felt for each other as they talked. Away to starboard they could see the cliffs at the higher end of Dragon Island cut out as if in black cardboard against the starry sky. Away to port was the long rising mass of Tiger Island.

  “Whereabouts are we?” said Roger, plucking at Titty.

  “About opposite where the cliffs begin,” said Titty. “You can see how high the black goes before it gets to the stars.”

  “I’ve lost Gibber,” said Roger. “Hi! Gibber!”

  “Keep quiet,” said John. “If we can hear them they can hear us.”

  “He’ll come back again,” whispered Titty.

  “Up the masthead probably,” said Nancy.

  “Oh well,” said Roger, “if he’s keeping a lookout …”

  Lights were still moving out of the town towards the rising ground. Lights were still moving through the woods.

  “No shouting for a bit,” said Nancy. “Perhaps it didn’t mean they’d seen the Shining Moon was gone.”

  “If they found the boats were missing and hunted along the bank they’d find the junk’s mooring rope slack,” said Captain Flint. “They’d pretty soon guess we’d got away with her. Well, we’ve a good start now. Steers like a daisy, the little ship.”

  “Great-aunts and Grandmothers!” exclaimed Nancy. “What on earth’s that?”

  A curious, billowing roar, it might almost have been the big foghorn they had had on the Wild Cat. But this noise was rounder and even louder and longer than the old foghorn’s longest blast.

  “I bet that means something,” said Roger.

  “That’s a horn conch,” said Captain Flint.

  Three or four minutes later it was answered by a noise of the same kind, a long, echoing hoot from somewhere down the river, and then by another.

  A light flashed out far ahead of them.

  “That’s one of the forts,” said John. … “And there’s the one on Turtle on the other side.” A second light had flashed out opposite the first.

  “Um,” said Captain Flint, “they won’t be able to do much shooting in this light.”

  “Shooting?” said Peggy.

  “I don’t suppose they’d even try it,” said Captain Flint. “But we might have to fend off enquiring sampans. They’ve got no junks down there.”

  More lights showed, a little cluster beside each of the two first, and presently these lights seemed to spread out into a sort of chain, two chains, moving towards each other.

  “Sampans?” said John.

  “I never thought of that,” said Captain Flint, and there was a new grim note in his voice. They all felt that there had been a sudden pull at the tiller, as the junk swerved and then straightened again on her course towards the lights.

  “You’ve put a waggle in your wake,” said Roger.

  “What is it?” asked Nancy.

  “They’re rigging the boom,” said Captain Flint. “Pulling it across the river. We’re trapped.”

  For a moment or two there was silence, as the Shining Moon sailed on.

  “I didn’t think she’d have done it,” said Captain Flint.

  “Playing cat and mouse. Letting us go like that and then pulling us in at the end of a string. …”

  “She never would,” said Titty, indignantly. “It’s the others. It’s Chang, and he gave the signal before she could think of a way of stopping him.”

  “She set us free before,” muttered Captain Flint. “Free … only with a sentinel on every bridge and boat. …”

  “But she had to do that,” said John.

  “What’s the difference now,” said Captain Flint.

  There was another silence. Away down the river the lights were moving this way and that between the dark islands. It was as if a necklace had been strung across from side to side. Then, one by one, the lights began to gather into two clusters, one by either shore.

  “We’re trapped all right now,” said Captain Flint. ?
??They’ve put the boom across. If it was good enough to stop big junks coming in, it’ll be more than enough to stop us getting out.”

  “Let’s go right on and ram it,” said Nancy.

  “We might as well ram the cliff,” said Captain Flint. “That boom’s made of teak logs. The little junk would break up like a matchbox.”

  He was still steering down the middle of the river.

  “Hadn’t we better go back?” said Susan.

  “Can’t against the current,” said John.

  “We’d better anchor,” said Susan, “If we can’t get away we just can’t.”

  “It’s no good landing anywhere,” said Captain Flint, talking more to himself than to them.

  “There is one other way,” said Titty. … “If we could get through the gorge. …”

  Again they felt that Captain Flint was not steering quite as usual. Titty flung out a hand to steady herself.

  “I say, look out,” said Roger.

  “You can get through if there’s enough water,” said Titty. “Miss Lee said she’d done it.”

  “It was bank high in the creek,” said John.

  “Stiff with rocks,” said Captain Flint. “And with all this water in the river it’ll be going through there like a mill race.”

  “Come on,” said Nancy. “We’ll never get away if we don’t do it now.”

  Again there was a silence, broken, suddenly, by two more long groaning hoots from the forts down the river.

  “Everything ready for the mouse,” said Captain Flint.

  “We must be pretty near that gap,” said John.

  “Look here, Susan,” said Captain Flint. “It’s like this. You know what Chang and the others feel about us. If we get caught anything may happen. Accident or on purpose, what does it matter? We’ve just a chance of getting through that gorge. I don’t believe we’ve any chance at all if we let them catch us. What about it?”

  For a moment or two no one spoke. The junk sailed on in darkness. Not even Nancy said a word. Like Captain Flint, they waited for Susan.

  “All right,” said Susan at last in a low voice.

  Nancy let loose a great sigh of relief.

  “Gosh!” she said. “I was afraid you wouldn’t see it. It’s the only possible thing to do.”

  “Daddy’d say just the same,” said John. “I’ve heard him. ‘If you can’t do anything, grin and bear it. But if there’s one chance, grab it with both hands.’”

  “And we will,” said Captain Flint. “And it’s not such a bad chance. … If only I could see in the dark … or if it was a bit lighter. But if it was light they’d see what we were doing and be cutting us off at the other end. It all depends on how much water there is and what we draw. You know a boat can go down a stream full of rocks and not touch a single one. The water cushions up against the rocks and fends her off.”

  “She must draw a good bit,” said John. “Look at the way she went to windward the day we went to our island. But there’s a channel right through when the river’s high, and it’s jolly high now. Miss Lee’s done it. Why shouldn’t we?”

  “We’ll try it,” said Captain Flint.

  “What about Swallow?” said Titty.

  “And Amazon?” said Nancy.

  “They’ve got to take their chance,” said Captain Flint. “We can’t get them aboard in the dark without hanging about while we do it. And we must be pretty near the gorge now. … Hullo. … Somebody’s afloat upstream.”

  Lights were moving on the water far astern.

  “Going aboard the junks,” said John.

  “Good,” said Nancy. “They’ll be bottled up by their own boom. They won’t open it till it’s light enough to see we’re not in the river, and by that time. …”

  “Better not look at those lights,” said Captain Flint. “Don’t look at the forts either. We’ll want cat’s eyes in the next half hour, and if we start staring at lights we’ll be as blind as moles. Let’s see. There’s a big rock off shore at the end of Dragon Island just above the mouth of the gorge. We went about there the other day. …”

  “Yes,” said John.

  “Care to go forrard and watch out for it?”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “I’m going too,” said Nancy.

  “Go careful,” said Captain Flint. “And when you’re there, hang on to something all the time. When you see a rock sing out ‘Starboard’ if it’s on the starboard bow. … Understand? … Don’t tell me where to steer. You just sing out where the rock is.”

  John and Nancy were gone, down from the poop, feeling their way forward, climbing the fo’c’sle.

  “If they shout, won’t the pirates hear them?” said Peggy.

  “Hardly,” said Captain Flint, “and it won’t matter now. Look-outs standing forrard?” he called softly.

  “Aye-aye, sir. Aye-aye,” a murmured answer came back.

  “Look! look!” said Titty. “There’s the gap. … Stars low down. …”

  It was as if a thin wedge of starry sky cut down into the black mass of the cliffs towards which the Shining Moon was moving crabwise across the river.

  “Don’t want to get carried past,” muttered Captain Flint and brought that wedge of starry sky on the port bow.

  “Starboard!” a hurried call came from the bows. “The big rock.”

  Captain Flint changed course again.

  “Gosh, she’s steering funny,” he grumbled to himself, and then aloud, “Current’s got us. … Taking us in. … No going back now. …”

  It was as if they were sailing straight into the cliff. The starry sky was narrowing overhead. On either side of them was a towering wall of solid black.

  The little junk made a sudden swerve. Titty, Roger and Peggy staggered but recovered their balance without falling.

  “Lie down, everybody,” said Captain Flint. “Lie down and hang on to anything you can get hold of. If we touch, we don’t want anybody catapulted overboard. … Lie down. … The wind’ll be stronger in the narrows. … Lucky for us it’s blowing through from this side. … If she gybes, she gybes. … Can’t help that. … But don’t let anybody get mucked up with the sheets. … Gosh, if only I could see. …”

  A door slammed below the poop.

  “What’s that?” said Peggy with a gasp. “There’s someone in the cabin …”

  “Gibber exploring,” said Roger. “May I go and get him?”

  “Lie still,” said Captain Flint almost angrily.

  “Gibber!” called Roger.

  “Shut up,” said Captain Flint.

  “But he’ll come if I call him. …”

  “Damn that monkey!” said Captain Flint.

  Titty felt about her, found Roger’s wrist and held it firmly. She knew. They all knew. For the first time since they had known him, Captain Flint was afraid.

  The night was no longer silent. There was a noise of rushing, splashing water, growing louder every minute, echoing to and fro between the high cliffs of the gorge. The little junk leapt and swerved, so that even lying down they had to hang on to something so as not to slide across the deck. On the open river they had seen the first faint promise of dawn. Here, between the cliffs, they were back at midnight. They could see nothing. Water that must have been tossed up a wall of rock came down in spray, like fine rain, wetting them where they lay. The mainsail with a frantic creaking of the bamboo battens flung violently across, and was brought up with a jerk and twang of the sheets.

  “Gybed,” grunted Captain Flint.

  Hardly a moment later, with a huge flap the sail gybed back again.

  “Can’t see,” muttered Captain Flint. “I can’t see. …” And then, “She’ll break right up if we touch. … Hang on to anything you can and trust to being carried through. … Sorry, Susan. … I was wrong. … Thought there’d be more light than this. … I can’t do anything with her. …”

  Roger jerked suddenly. Titty felt somebody stepping over her. … soft, silent feet against her body. …


  “Who’s standing?” shouted Captain Flint. “Lie down, I say. Lie down!”

  “Solly. Better let me have tiller, I think,” said the voice of Miss Lee.

  CHAPTER XXVII

  THE PATH OF DUTY

  IN the pitch darkness under the cliffs something had changed. Titty, Roger, Peggy and Susan, lying there, flat on the poop-deck, knew that the Shining Moon no longer had a blind steersman. Miss Lee could see. That awful feeling of helplessness had left them all. They did not ask why Miss Lee was there. It was enough for them to hear her asking quietly for Captain Flint’s weight on the tiller when she needed it. “Pull, please,” she would say, or “Please, push”. The swerves of the Shining Moon were not so sudden or so soon one after another. Moving faster and faster towards the narrowest part of the passage, she seemed to be picking her way for herself and no longer to be swirling downstream like a bit of wreckage.

  Roger turned over on his back. “Have we passed the bridge yet?” he whispered. “There it is … against the stars … look! right overhead. … We’ve passed the bridge,” he shouted aloud.

  “That’s the narrowest bit, isn’t it?” they heard Captain Flint say and could hear the relief in his voice. “Sorry,” they heard him add. “Mustn’t talk to the man at the wheel.”

  On and on swept the little junk. Splashes of water leapt and dropped into the waist of her. Cool spray flung from the cliffs fell on the high poop.

  Suddenly they heard Miss Lee talking.

  “Better tell John and Nansee to lie down,” she was saying. “We are coming to the whirlpool. … Will you please shout?”

  And Captain Flint roared above the noise of the water that was echoed to and fro between the cliffs overhead, “Nancy. John. Lie down and hold fast. Do you hear?”

  Two shouts from forrard, “Aye-aye, sir,” sounded like the twittering of mice.

  “I keep on the edge of the whirlpool … if I can,” said Miss Lee. “You will pull hard when I say …”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” said Captain Flint.

  “Whirlpool!” said Roger.

  “It’ll be all right,” said Susan.

  “I wish Nancy was here,” said Peggy.

  The next moment they were in it. They could see nothing, but could hear the enormous swirling of the water. They heard Miss Lee, “Pull … Pull now … Pull …” There was a crash that shook the ship as the mainsail flung across. … A gybe … Another crash as the mainsail flung back again. … Tremendous flapping. For the first time the feel of wind in their faces … The Shining Moon had been turned right round and was heading upstream. … There was a thunderous flap as the sail filled again. … Another gybe … Another … And then, with the wind aft, the Shining Moon was picking her way downstream below the whirlpool.