Now there was a terrific clap of thunder right over their heads and their little refuge was lit again and again by flashes of white light. The thunder rumbled round the sky like a great train while the sea hurled its biggest waves against Lonely Island.
‘What a blessing we aren’t on the sea,’ said Moominmamma. ‘Dear me, what weather!’
The Snork Maiden put her trembling paw in Moomintroll’s, and he felt very protecting and manly.
Sniff lay under his blanket and screamed.
‘Now it’s right over us!’ said Moominpappa. And at that moment a giant flash of lightning lit up the island, followed by a rending crash.
‘That struck something!’ said the Snork.
It was really a bit too much. The Hemulen sat holding his head. ‘Trouble! Always trouble!’ he muttered.
Now it began to move off to the south. The thunder claps got farther and farther away, the lightning became fainter, and at last there was only the rustle of the rain and the sound of the sea as it broke on the shore.
I won’t tell them about the Hobgoblin yet, thought Snufkin. They are scared enough as it is.
‘You can come out now, Sniff,’ said Snufkin. ‘It’s all over.’
Sniff disentangled himself from the blanket, yawned and scratched his ear. He was a bit embarrassed because he had made such a fuss. ‘What’s the time?’ he asked.
‘Nearly eight,’ answered the Snork.
‘Then I think we’ll go and lie down,’ said Moominmamma. ‘All this has been very disturbing.’
‘But wouldn’t it be exciting to find out what the lightning struck?’ said Moomintroll.
‘In the morning!’ said his mother. ‘In the morning we’ll explore everything and have a bathe. Now the island is wet and grey and unpleasant.’ She tucked them up and then went to sleep herself with her handbag under her pillow.
Outside the storm redoubled its fury. The voice of the waves was now mixed with strange sounds: laughter, running feet and the clanging of great bells far out to sea. Snufkin lay still and listened, dreaming and remembering his trip round the world. Soon I must set out again, he thought. But not yet.
Chapter four
In which owing to the Hattifatteners’ night attack the Snork Maiden loses her hair, and in which the most remarkable discovery is made on Lonely Island.
IN the middle of the night the Snork Maiden woke up with an awful feeling. Something had touched her face. She didn’t dare to look but sniffed uneasily around her. There was a smell of burning, so she pulled the blanket over her head and called tremulously to Moomintroll.
He woke up at once and asked her what was the matter.
‘There’s something dangerous in here,’ came a muffled voice from under the blanket. ‘I can feel it.’
Moomintroll stared into the darkness. There wassomething! Little lights… Pale gleaming shapes that pattered to and fro between the sleepers. Moomintroll was terrified and woke Snufkin.
‘Look!’ he gasped. ‘Ghosts!’
‘It’s all right,’ said Snufkin. ‘Those are Hattifatteners. The thundery weather has electrified them – that’s why they shine so. Keep quite still, otherwise you might get an electric shock.’
The Hattifatteners seemed to be looking for something. They poked about in all the hampers, and the burning smell became stronger, and then suddenly they all collected in the corner where the Hemulen was sleeping.
‘Do you think they’re after him?’ asked Moomintroll, anxiously.
‘They’re probably only looking for the barometer,’ said Snufkin. ‘I warned him not to take it. Now they’ve found it.’
The Hattifatteners were all clinging to the barometer and had clambered up on to the Hemulen so as to reach it better; the smell of burning was very strong now.
Sniff woke up and began to whimper, and at the same time there was a piercing scream. A Hattifattener had trodden on the Hemulen’s nose.
In a moment everybody was awake and on their feet. Pandemonium broke loose. Hattifatteners were trodden on; Sniff got an electric shock; the Hemulen rushed about screaming with terror, and then entangled himself in the sail so that the whole tent collapsed on top of them. It was quite frightful.
Sniff maintained afterwards that it was at least an hour before they had found their way out of the sail. (Perhaps he exaggerated a bit.)
But by the time they had all sorted themselves out the Hattifatteners had disappeared into the wood with the barometer. And nobody had the least desire to follow them.
The Hemulen, moaning piteously, thrust his nose into the sand. ‘This has gone too far!’ he said. ‘Why can’t a poor innocent botanist live his life in peace and quiet?’
‘Life is not peaceful,’ said Snufkin, contentedly.
‘Look children!’ said Moominpappa, ‘it has cleared up. Soon it’ll begin to get light.’
Moominmamma shivered and clutched her handbag tight as she looked out over the stormy night sea. ‘Shall we build a new house and try to sleep again?’ she asked.
‘That wouldn’t be any use,’ said Moomintroll. ‘We’ll wrap ourselves up in the blankets and wait till the sun gets up.’
So they sat in a row on the beach, very close to one another, and Sniff sat in the middle because he thought it was safest.
The night was nearly over now and the storm was far away, but the breakers still thundered in over the sand. The sky began to grow pale in the east and it
was very cold. Then, in the first light of dawn, they saw the Hattifatteners setting off from the island. Boatloads of them glided away like shadows from behind the point and steered out to sea.
The Hemulen breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I hope I never see a Hattifattener again,’ he said.
‘They’re probably looking for a new island for themselves,’ said Snufkin, enviously. ‘A secret island that nobody will ever find!’ And he followed the little boats with longing eyes.
The Snork Maiden was sleeping with her head in Moomintroll’s lap when the first golden streak showed on the eastern horizon. A few little puffs of cloud that the storm had forgotten turned a soft shell pink, and then the sun lifted his shining head over the sea.
Moomintroll bent down to wake the Snork Maiden up, and then he noticed a terrible thing. Her beautiful fluffy fringe was burnt right off. It must have happened when the Hattifatteners brushed against her. What would she say? How could he comfort her? It was a catastrophe!
The Snork Maiden opened her eyes and smiled.
‘Do you know,’ said Moomintroll hastily, ‘it’s most extraordinary, but as time goes on I’m beginning to prefer girls without hair?’
‘Really?’ she said with a look of surprise. ‘Why is that?’
‘Hair looks so untidy!’ replied Moomintroll. The Snork Maiden immediately lifted her paw to pat her hair – but alas! All she got hold of was a little burnt tuft, which she stared at in horror.
‘You’ve gone bald,’ said Sniff.
‘It suits you – really,’ Moomintroll said consolingly. ‘Please don’t cry!’
But the Snork Maiden threw herself down on the sand and wept bitterly over the loss of her crowning glory.
They all crowded round trying to cheer her up but in vain.
‘Listen,’ said the Hemulen. ‘I was born bald on top and really I get along very well.’
‘We’ll rub your head with oil so that it’s sure to grow again,’ said Moominpappa.
‘And then it will be so curly!’ added Moominmamma.
‘Will it really?’ sobbed the Snork Maiden.
‘Of course it will,’ soothed Moominmamma. ‘Think how sweet you’ll look with curly hair!’ So the Snork Maiden stopped crying and sat up.
‘Look how lovely it is!’ said Snufkin. The island had been washed by the rain and now sparkled in the early morning sunlight. ‘I shall play a morning song,’ he went on taking out his mouth-organ. So they all sang lustily after him:
‘There’s no need to worry or fear or fret:
There’s plenty of life in all of us yet.
The Hattifatteners, every one,
Have sailed away to the rising sun.
And after beauty we’ll never more crave,
For the Snork Maiden’s getting a permanent wave.’
‘Come and bathe!’ cried Moomintroll. And the whole lot pulled on their swimming suits and rushed out into the breakers (except the Hemulen and Moominmamma and pappa who thought it was still too cold).
Glass-green and white waves rolled in over the sand. Oh, to be a Moomin and to dance in the waves while the sun gets up! The night was forgotten and a long June day lay before them. They dived like porpoises through the waves and sailed in on the crests towards the beach where Sniff was playing in the shallow water. Snufkin was floating on his back far out and looking up into the blue and gold sky.
Meanwhile Moominmamma was making coffee and looking for the butter-jar which she had hidden from the sun in the damp sand. But she looked in vain – the storm had washed it away. ‘Oh dear, what can I give them for sandwiches?’ she wailed.
‘Never mind,’ said Moominpappa. ‘We’ll see if the storm has given us something else instead. After coffee we’ll make a tour of inspection along the beach and see what the sea has washed up!’ And this they did.
On the farther side of the island shining slippery rocks reared up out of the sea and there you could find both patches of shell-strewn sand (the mermaids’ private dance floor) and secret black chasms into which the breakers thundered, as though they were battering on an iron door; in fact there were caves and gurgling whirlpools and all manner of exciting things to be found.
Everyone set out on his own to see what had been washed up. (This is the most exciting occupation, for you can find the strangest things, and it is often quite difficult and dangerous to save them from the sea.)
Moominmamma clambered down to a little patch of sand which was hidden by some fearsome rocks. Here clumps of blue sea-pinks grew and the sea-oats rattled and whistled as the wind forced its way up their narrow stalks. She lay down in a sheltered spot from which she could see only the blue sky and the sea-pinks that waved over her head. ‘I’ll rest just a little while,’ she thought, but soon she was fast asleep in the warm sand.
But the Snork ran to the top of the highest hill and looked round. He could see from shore to shore, and the island seemed to him to float like a giant water-lily on the uneasy sea. He saw Sniff – just a speck – looking for wreckage; he even caught sight of Snufkin’s hat; and surely that was the Hemulen digging up a rare shell-orchid… And there! Wasn’t that where the lightning had struck? A terrible crag, bigger than ten Moominhouses, had been split like an apple by the lightning, and the two halves had fallen apart leaving a deep cleft between them. The Snork climbed trembling into the crack and looked up at the dark cliff walls which the lightning had split open. The stone was as black as ebony, but through it ran a bright and shining streak. It was gold – it must be gold!
The Snork poked about with his penknife. A little grain of gold came loose and fell into his paw. He picked out one piece after another, getting hot with excitement and digging out bigger and bigger pieces. After a time he had forgotten everything but the brilliant vein of gold which the lightning had brought to light. He wasn’t a beachcomber any longer – he was a gold-digger!
Meanwhile Sniff had made a very simple find, but he was just as happy over it. He had found a lifebelt. It was slightly rotted by sea water, but it fitted him perfectly. ‘Now I can go into the deep water,’ he thought, ‘and I’m sure I shall soon be able to swim as well as the others. Won’t Moomintroll be surprised!’ A little farther away, amongst the birch-bark, floats and seaweed, he discovered a raffia mat, a broken dipper and an old boot without a heel. Wonderful treasures when you steal them from the sea! Then in the distance he caught sight of Moomintroll who was standing out in the water struggling with something. Something big! ‘What a pity that I didn’t see it first!’ thought Sniff. ‘What in the world can it be?’
Now Moomintroll had got his find out of the water and was rolling it in front of him up the beach. Sniff craned his neck – and then he saw what it was. A buoy! A big and gorgeous buoy!
‘Pee-hoo!’ shouted Moomintroll. ‘What do you think of this?’
‘It’s quite nice,’ said Sniff, critically, with his head on one side. ‘But what do you think of this?’ And he displayed his find on the sand.
‘The lifebelt is lovely,’ replied Moomintroll. ‘But what’s the use of half a dipper?’
‘It will probably do if you bail quickly,’ said Sniff. ‘Listen! What do you say to a swop? The raffia mat, the dipper and the boot for that old buoy?’
‘Never in your life!’ said Moomintroll. ‘But perhaps the lifebelt for this rarey object that must have drifted here from a distant land.’ And he held up a glass ball and shook it. Then up whirled a mass of snowflakes inside settling gradually to rest on a little house with windows of silver paper.
‘Oh!’ said Sniff. And a great struggle was going on inside him because he couldn’t bear to part with anything, even in exchange.
‘Look!’ said Moomintroll and shook the snow up again.
‘I don’t know,’ said Sniff, doubtfully. ‘I don’t really know which I like best, the lifebelt or your snow storm.’
‘I’m pretty sure it’s the only one in the world at the moment,’ said Moomintroll.
‘But I can’t give up the lifebelt!’ wailed Sniff. ‘Dear Moomintroll, couldn’t we share the little snow storm?’
‘Hm,’ said Moomintroll.
‘Couldn’t I just hold it sometimes?’ begged Sniff. ‘On Sundays?’
Moomintroll thought for a bit, and then he said: ‘Well, all right! You can have it on Sundays and Wednesdays.’
*
Meanwhile Snufkin was wandering along with only the waves for company. He had a wonderful time jumping out of their way at the last minute, and laughing as they snapped in vain at his boots.
Just beyond the point he met Moominpappa who was salvaging driftwood.
‘Fine, eh?’ he puffed. We can build a landing-stage for The Adventure with this!’
‘Shall I help you to drag it up?’ asked Snufkin.
‘No, no!’ said Moominpappa, a little shocked. ‘I can manage it alone. Can’t you find something of your own to drag up?’
There was a great deal to be salvaged, but nothing that Snufkin cared about. Small barrels, half a chair, a basket without a bottom, an ironing board; heavy troublesome things. Snufkin stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled. He preferred teasing the waves.
But out on the point the Snork Maiden was clambering about on the rocks. She had decorated her singed brow with a crown of sea-lilies, and was searching for something that would surprise all the others and make them jealous. When they had admired it she would give it to Moomintroll, as long as it wasn’t something she could use to make herself beautiful. It was bothersome climbing about on the stones, and her crown was beginning to blow off. But at any rate the wind wasn’t so strong now, and the sea had changed from an angry green to a peaceful blue; the waves no longer seemed threatening, but tossed their plumes with a gay air. The Snork Maiden climbed down on to a little pebbly beach which bordered the water’s edge, but there was nothing to be seen except a little seaweed and some bits of driftwood. A little downhearted she strolled farther out on the point. ‘It’s sad that everyone except me does so much,’ thought the Snork Maiden to herself. ‘They retrieve magic hats, capture ant-lions and carry off barometers. I wish I could do
something tremendous, all on my own, and impress Moomintroll.’
Sighing to herself she looked out over the deserted beach. And then her heart nearly stopped beating for out on the point a Shape was washing to and fro in the shallow water! And it was tremendously big – ten times as big as a little Snork Maiden!
‘I’ll run and fetch the others at once,’ she thought, and then stopped, telling herself not to be frightened but to h
ave a look and see what it was. So trembling in every limb she went up to the awful thing to find it was nothing less than a giantess – a giantess without legs! How terrible! The Snork Maiden took a few shaky steps forward, but then came the biggest surprise of all – the giantess was made of wood, and she was very beautiful. Her cheeks and lips were red and her round blue eyes smiled up through the clear water; she had blue hair, too, flowing in long painted curls over her shoulders. ‘It’s a queen,’ said the Snork Maiden, reverently. The beautiful creature’s hands were crossed on her breast which was hung with golden flowers and chains. Her dress was of soft flowing red material, and she was all of painted wood. The only strange thing was that she hadn’t got a back.
‘She is almost too good for Moomintroll,’ mused the Snork Maiden. ‘But he shall have her in any case!’ And she was very proud when, towards evening, she paddled into the harbour perched on the queen’s middle.
‘Have you found a boat?’ asked the Snork.
‘Fancy your being able to find it all alone,’ said Moomintroll, admiringly.
‘It’s a figurehead,’ said Moominpappa, who in his youth had sailed the seven seas. ‘Sailors like to decorate the prows of their ships with a beautiful wooden queen.’
‘What for?’ asked Sniff.
‘Oh, I suppose they like ladies,’ said Moominpappa.
‘But why hasn’t she got a back?’ asked the Hemulen.
‘That’s where she’s fixed to the ship’s prow, of course,’ said the Snork. ‘Even a child could see that!’
‘She’s too big to be nailed to The Adventure,’ said Snufkin. ‘What a pity!’
‘Oh, what a beautiful lady!’ sighed Moominmamma. ‘Imagine being so pretty and getting no happiness out of it!’
‘What do you think of doing with it?’ asked Sniff.
The Snork Maiden lowered her eyes and smiled. Then she said: ‘I think I shall give it to Moomintroll.’