‘I’ll eat your old hat if they aren’t far behind!’ said the Mymble’s daughter.
But Snufkin only shook his head.
The pass narrowed. Through the opening between the rock-faces shone a glimpse of the friendly greenness of the Moomin Valley. And a pointed roof with a gaily fluttering flag…
Now they could see a turn of the river, with the blue-painted bridge. The jasmines were already in bloom! The Moomins splashed happily onwards through the water, talking all at once about everything they were going to do when they came home.
Suddenly a shrill whistle cut the air like a knife.
In a moment the pass was teeming with Hemulens, in front, behind, everywhere.
The Snork Maiden hid her head at Moomintroll’s shoulder. No one spoke a word. It was so awful to be nearly home again and caught by the Hemulic police.
The Hemulen came wading towards them. He stopped before Snufkin.
‘We-ell?’ he said.
Nobody answered.
‘We-ell?’ said the Hemulen again.
Then the little Hemulen waded up to her cousin as fast as her legs could carry her, dropped a curtsy and handed
him a black exercise-book. ‘Snufkin repents and says he’s sorry,’ she said shyly.
‘I’ve never…’ Snufkin started to say.
The big Hemulen silenced him with a glance and opened the exercise-book. He started to count. He counted a long time. While he was busy the water continued falling and after a while it was only ankle-deep.
Finally the Hemulen said: ‘Yes, this is quite right. “Strictly forbidden”, five thousand times.’
‘But,’ said Snufkin.
‘Please don’t say anything,’ said the little Hemulen. ‘I’ve really enjoyed it, honestly I have!’
‘What about the notices?’ said her cousin.
‘Couldn’t he put up some new ones instead, around my vegetable plot?’ asked Moominmamma. ‘For instance, “Visitors are asked to leave a little of the lettuce”?’
‘Oh, yes… I suppose that would do,’ replied the Hemulen slightly crestfallen. ‘Well, looks like I’d have to let you off. But don’t do that ever again!’
‘No,’ they all said obediently.
‘And you’re coming home, I think,’ continued the Hemulen with a severe glance at his little cousin.
‘Yes, if you aren’t angry with me,’ she replied. Then she turned to the Moomins and said: ‘Thanks ever so much for your suggestions about the crocheting. I’ll send the slippers as soon as they’re finished. What’s the address?’
‘Moomin Valley’s enough,’ said Moominpappa.
*
They ran the last bit. Up the slope, in among the lilac bushes, straight to the front steps. There the Moomins stopped, drawing a long breath of relief and feeling what it felt like to be at home. Everything felt right.
The beautiful fretwork railing on the verandah was unbroken. The sun-flower was there. The water barrel was there. And the flood wave had bleached the hammock to a really nice colour. Of the whole flood only a small puddle was left near the front steps, a very suitable swimming-pool for Little My.
It was as if nothing had ever happened and as if no danger could ever threaten them again.
But the gravel paths were strewn with sea-shells, and on the porch hung a wreath of red sea-weed.
Moominmamma looked up towards the drawing-room window.
‘Darling, don’t go inside yet,’ said Moominpappa.’ And if you do, keep your eyes shut. I’m going to make a new drawing-room suite as much alike the former one as possible. With tassels and red plush and everything.’
‘There’s no need for me to shut my eyes,’ Moominmamma replied gaily. ‘I believe the only thing I’m going to miss is a good revolving stage. I think it would be nicer to have mottled plush this time!’
*
In the evening Moomintroll went down to Snufkin’s camping place to wish him good night.
Snufkin was having a quiet smoke by the river.
‘Everything all right?’ asked Moomintroll.
Snufkin nodded. ‘Absolutely everything,’ he said.
Moomintroll sniffed. ‘Have you changed to a new brand?’ he asked. ‘Reminds me of raspberry leaves. Is it good?’
‘No,’ replied Snufkin. ‘But I smoke it only on Sundays.’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Moomintroll a little wonderingly. ‘It’s Sunday, really. Well, cheerio then, I’m going to bed!’
‘Yip, yip!’ replied Snufkin.
*
Moomintroll returned by way of the brown pool behind the hammock tree. He looked down into the water. Yes, the bangles were there.
He began to search the long grass.
It was quite a long time before he found the bark schooner. The back stay had got entangled in a bush, but it was undamaged. Even the little hatch was in its place over the hold.
Moomintroll walked back through the garden to the house. The evening air was cool and mild, and the dewy flowers had a richer fragrance than ever before.
His mother was sitting on the steps. She was waiting for him.
She was holding something in her paws and smiling.
‘Know what I’ve got?’ she asked.
‘The dinghy!’ said Moomintroll, and burst out laughing. Not because anything was especially funny, but just because he felt so very happy.
*Moomin people thank each other not only for tea but after every meal they eat together. They like to feel polite. Translator.
*Do it again! Author.
Tove Jansson, Moominsummer Madness
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