Secret Water

“Two,” said Roger, “and two men in the big boat. Hullo. They’re letting them go astern. We’ll see better in a minute.”

  One of the men in the motor boat was walking to the stern with the painter of the sailing boat. The little nodding mast slipped back. A little brown sailing boat slid into sight. The people in it were struggling with a white sail.

  “He’s cast off,” said Roger.

  “They’re turning round,” said John.

  The motor boat began to move ahead. The men in it pointed towards Goblin Creek. Someone waved from the sailing boat. The motor boat swung slowly round, and then, suddenly picking up speed, shot away towards the mouth of Secret Water and the open sea.

  A white sail was being hoisted in the little boat. Up it went, stopped fluttering and filled with wind. Someone in a red stocking cap was steering. Someone else in a red stocking cap was busy by the mast.

  “Hoisting a flag,” said Roger. “Do their flags have eels on them?”

  But there were no eels on the flag that suddenly fluttered from the mast head. The flag was black, with something white on it.

  “Skull and crossbones,” said the Mastodon. “Well I’m blowed. Whoever can it be?”

  “Hey!” Titty was shouting at the top of her voice. “Hey!”

  “Ahoy!” shouted John.

  “Ahoy!” yelled Roger.

  “Do you know them?” said the Mastodon.

  “It’s Nancy and Peggy,” said Titty. “It’s the Amazon pirates. Hey! Hey! Ahoy!”

  “Three million cheers!” said John.

  “Gosh!” exclaimed Titty. “That’s what Nancy meant. She knew they were coming. And Daddy and Mother never said a word.”

  “Swallows ahoy! Swallows ahoy!” A hail came over the water.

  They saw Peggy standing up and waving. They saw Nancy pull her firmly down, as the little boat heeled to a sudden puff and came sailing in towards the mouth of Goblin Creek.

  CHAPTER XI

  WAR OR EXPLORATION?

  “AHOY!” SHOUTED JOHN, as he saw the Amazons turning towards the shore. “You can’t land there. All swamp. Further in. Land where you see our boat.”

  “Aye, aye,” shouted Nancy.

  John, Titty and Roger set off at a run, and the Mastodon followed them, doubtfully, lagging a little behind.

  “Susan,” shouted John. “It’s the Amazons!”

  “They’re here,” yelled Roger.

  “They’re only ragging,” said Susan. And then, looking over the saltings, she saw the sail of a boat, and then the red caps of the Amazons. “No, they really are. Come on, Bridget.”

  “Sinbad, too,” said Bridget, and grabbed the startled kitten and ran after Susan to the landing place.

  “This side. Close along the piling. Step out between the piles. Soft mud everywhere else.”

  “All right, Peggy. Let the sail flap till we get unloaded. We’ll never get the tent and things out if we have the sail down on the top of the lot.”

  “Keep that bag out of the mud, Roger.”

  “Hullo, Ship’s baby! Hullo, kitten!”

  “We just couldn’t believe it was you,” said Titty.

  “Well it jolly well is. Didn’t you get our message? Look out, John. I’ve stuffed our compass into that.”

  ARRIVAL OF THE AMAZONS

  “Good,” said John. “We’ve only got one. Another’ll make all the difference.”

  “It’s Firefly,” said Roger, who had worked himself out along the little hard till, standing in the water, he could read the name on the stern of the boat. “I saw her at Pin Mill.”

  “Captain Walker borrowed her,” said Peggy.

  “Gosh, it has been a rush,” said Nancy … and stopped, looking at the Mastodon, who was waiting, not knowing whether to go or stay.

  “He’s a savage,” said Titty. “We thought he was a Mastodon, because of his hoofmarks in the mud.”

  “Big as tea-trays,” said Roger. “He can run on the mud, and he lives in a barge over there. You can’t quite see it from here.”

  “He’s got a tribe, but they’re not here yet,” said Titty. “He came with us as a guide through the Straits of Magellan. You know we’re doing real exploring.”

  “Greeting,” said Nancy in the grand manner.

  “Titty and I call him Mastodon,” said Roger. “He doesn’t mind. But he’s a chief of the Eels.”

  Nancy held out her hand, and the Mastodon shook it, and then shook hands with Peggy.

  “My Mate,” said Nancy.

  “Well, I’d better be going,” said the Mastodon shyly.

  “Jibbooms and bobstays … why on earth?” said Nancy.

  “Oh I say,” said John. “There’s no need. Aren’t you going to help with the map? There’s lots more to do.”

  “What map?” asked Nancy.

  “You’ll see,” said John.

  “Come on, noble savage,” said Nancy firmly. “You take the other end of the tent and go first.” And the Mastodon, carrying one end of the long roll of the Amazon’s big tent, followed by Nancy with the other end on her shoulder, found himself leading the way up to the camp.

  Everybody carried something. Roger lowered the black flag with the skull and crossbones on it, ran, splashing, across the saltings, fastened it to a surveying pole, and planted it beside the Swallow flag in the middle of the camp. Even Bridget, with Sinbad in her arms, managed to carry a pair of Peggy’s shoes, that she had taken off in the boat in order to get into seaboots for landing.

  “Plenty of room for another tent,” said Susan. “There’s a good flat place just this side of that willow bush.”

  “Gosh,” said Roger. “Things’ll happen now.”

  “Looks to me as if they’ve begun,” said Nancy. “The one thing we hadn’t got at home was savages. Hi, Mastodon, just lug at that end of the bag and the tent’ll come out poles and all.”

  “Dump the bags on the groundsheet,” said Peggy. “I say, this is a gorgeous place.”

  “You don’t know how gorgeous,” said Titty. “It’s real exploring this time. Miles of it. Islands and straits and everything changing all the time because of the tide. There’s a Red Sea with a track across it at low water and at high water you can sail. We saw the tracks of Pharaoh’s chariots this morning, and we sailed over it this afternoon.”

  “When did you leave Beckfoot?” asked Susan when the Amazons’ tent was pitched, and Nancy and Peggy were tightening their guy ropes.

  “Yesterday morning,” said Peggy.

  “It was one long stupendous rush,” said Nancy. “Where’s my knapsack?” She rummaged in it and brought out a sheaf of telegrams. “We didn’t know for certain till the day before yesterday. The D’s had gone, and Captain Flint and Timothy couldn’t talk about anything but copper, and then Mother got a letter from your Mother asking us to come and Mother wrote and asked which day, and after that we were all of a dither. We didn’t think there’d be an answer for at least two days. Then came the first telegram and our spirits shot up like rockets. Your Mother couldn’t have sent a lovelier telegram.”

  “What did she say?” asked Titty.

  Nancy showed the first telegram:

  MRS BLACKETT BECKFOOT

  EXPECT NO COMFORTS BUZZ THEM ALONG

  MARY WALKER

  “Doesn’t sound a bit like Mother,” said John.

  “Daddy said he’d sent a telegram for her,” said Titty.

  “Good one anyway,” said Nancy. “Well, we began getting ready at once, and then Captain Flint and Timothy came in, and the telephone rang again and there was another.

  BLACKETT BECKFOOT

  BRING TENTS

  WALKER

  We thought that couldn’t be your mother because she knows we’ve only got one. And we were packing the tent up in the garden when the next telegram came.

  BLACKETT BECKFOOT

  BRING COMPASS

  WALKER

  By that time we knew something was really up, and Captain Flint and Timothy got intereste
d too, and said it must be some more prospecting. But Timothy said there were no minerals in these parts. Captain Flint said you must have found something or other.

  “And they lent a hand with the tent and I was packing the compass and Mother was scurrying round with clothes and then another telegram came.

  BLACKETT BECKFOOT

  GUMBOOTS AND OILIES PUT THEM IN FIRST POSSIBLE TRAIN

  WALKER

  “After that everybody was fairly whirling, and nobody really slept, and Captain Flint and Timothy rushed us round to the station in Rattletrap first thing in the morning, and we spent the night in London with Aunt Helen. …”

  “Not the Great Aunt?” said Roger.

  “No. A good one,” said Nancy. “And then your friendly natives met us at Ipswich and rushed us to Pin Mill. We just saw Miss Powell’s and had one look at the Goblin and then we were dumped into that motor boat and your natives said Good luck and were off for London and we were off for here. Buzz was the right word from the beginning.”

  “I knew Daddy was up to something,” said Titty.

  “They never said a single word,” said Roger.

  “I know now why Mother put in too many mugs and plates,” said Susan.

  At that moment, Peggy, admiring the flags, tripped over the supper peg of the meal-dial and kicked it out of the ground.

  Roger darted to put it back. “Look out,” he said, “or there won’t be any supper.”

  “What’s that?” said Nancy.

  “Meal-dial,” said Roger.

  “I say, have you got a watch?” exclaimed Susan. “Thank goodness you have. I went and forgot my alarm clock in Goblin.”

  “Here you are,” said Nancy. “But a meal-dial’s even better. Wouldn’t Dick have liked it?”

  “Oh good,” said John. “We’ll be all right about tides now. A meal-dial’s only good for meals.”

  “It’s no good even for meals,” said Roger, “unless the sun’s shining. No sun no shadow and we’d all starve.”

  “Bet you wouldn’t,” said Nancy.

  Roger disappeared into his tent. A moment later everybody was startled by the noise of a penny whistle.

  “It’s only Roger,” said Bridget.

  “Come out of that,” said Nancy, “and let’s see the horrid instrument.”

  “Can’t,” said Roger. “The wind sends all the notes wrong. I’m playing welcoming music in spite of Nancy being so beastly rude. What tune would you like?”

  Suddenly the Mastodon, who had been listening in silence, spoke to John. “I say,” he said. “I really have got to go. I forgot those worms. I’ve a night line to set.”

  The music ended in the middle of a bar.

  “Can I come too?” asked Roger.

  “You can lend a hand with the oars,” said the Mastodon. “It’s much easier with two.”

  “Come back to supper,” said Susan.

  “Oh I say,” said the Mastodon. “I was here to dinner.”

  “There’s lots of grub,” said Susan.

  “Of course you’ll come back,” said Nancy.

  “We’ve got an enormous cake,” said Peggy.

  The Mastodon hesitated. “I’d love to come,” he said. “Look here, will all of you come to supper in Speedy tomorrow?”

  “I should think we jolly well will,” said Roger.

  “In your lair?” said Nancy. “Of course we’ll come.”

  The fishermen went off to the landing place.

  “What about inking some of it in?” said John, and Titty went into her tent and came out with the map on a drawing-board and her case of drawing things.

  “What on earth are you doing?” asked Nancy.

  “Mapping?” said Peggy.

  “You show them what we’ve done,” said John, watching the Amazons anxiously.

  “It was Daddy’s idea first,” said Titty. “He was coming, too, and Mother, and we were going to make a proper map of this place. This is what he did for us to start with. All unexplored. And this bit in the middle is the bit we’ve done. I’ll put it on the ground so that you can see better. That’s this island. This is where the Mastodon lives in a wreck. The idea is to get the whole map explored before the relief ship comes to take us away again.”

  “We’ll get on faster now you’ve come,” said John.

  Nancy went down on her knees beside the map. “Let’s have a look,” she said. The true lines of the island had been drawn. A thick pencil line marked the dyke, and outside it, not so thick, a wavering line showed the edge of the marshes. The straight lines of the compass bearings, going from point to point, looked like a net holding the island to the paper.

  “All those straight lines’ll be rubbed out when Titty’s done the inking,” said John.

  “I’ve only got black ink here,” said Titty. “But when we get home we’ll put each journey in with dotted lines, different sorts of dots. Explorers always do.”

  She filled her pen with ink, and began her work, while Nancy and Peggy looked over her shoulders.

  “It’s a grand place for a war,” said Nancy. “Better than Wild Cat and our river. Surprise attacks from all sides. And savages too.”

  John and Titty looked at each other in horror.

  “We’ve sailed all round this island,” said Titty. “We had to begin with that. We’re going to do a new bit every day. And gradually the explored part, properly mapped, will come spreading out till the whole thing’s done.”

  “What a place for war,” said Nancy again. “Specially with savages. Think of an attack … war canoes coming through there … and savages creeping through the reeds. …”

  “But there won’t be time for any war,” said John.

  “And the Mastodon’s a friend,” said Titty.

  For some time the Amazons watched in silence.

  “You’ll get a medal from the Royal Geographical Society,” said Nancy at last. … “The Walker Expedition.”

  Both John and Titty noticed that she said “you” instead of “we”.

  “You’re in it too,” said John.

  “It isn’t Walkers anyway,” said Titty, taking her pen from the paper and holding it well away from the side of the drawing-board for fear of a blot. “It’s Swallows and Amazons as usual. The Swallows and Amazons Expedition.”

  “But we haven’t got Swallow or Amazon,” said Peggy.

  There was silence while Titty dipped her pen and drew another careful line. Then she spoke again. “Archipelago Expedition … Secret Archipelago Expedition … S.A.E. … The S. and the A. will do for Swallows and Amazons as well. We’ve got their flags. And we’ve called this island Swallow Island … unless you’d rather not. …”

  “No, that’s all right,” said Nancy. “Secret Archipelago Expedition it is. At least I vote for that.”

  “So do I,” said John.

  “Can I ink in the kraal?” said Titty.

  “It’s in the right place,” said John. “I got a bearing of it from three different posts.”

  Titty inked it in and in small capital letters wrote “NATIVE KRAAL” and away towards the eastern end of the island she wrote “HERE ARE BUFFALOES”. Then, drawing tiny clumps of reeds, just three short thin strokes in a bunch, she began putting in the marshes outside the dyke.

  “Giminy,” said Nancy. “If it’s going to be all like that it’s going to be jolly fine. We’ll discover an Amazon Island too.”

  “Wait till we’ve rubbed out the pencil marks,” said Titty much relieved. It would have been too awful if the Amazons had set their hearts on war.

  The inking went steadily on.

  “How many savages are there?” said Nancy suddenly.

  “He’s the only one so far,” said John. “But he says three more are coming.”

  “You can’t have much of a war,” said Nancy regretfully, “with only one savage against six of us.”

  “Seven,” interrupted Bridget, “and eight counting Sinbad.”

  “Sorry, Ship’s baby,” said Nancy. “We
ll, seven to one’s no good. It ought to be a handful of explorers holding a stockade against a howling horde. Look here. Peggy and I are sick of being pirates.”

  “Oh I say,” burst out John. “There simply isn’t time. We’ve cut two notches already. Two days gone. If we go and start a war now we’ll have ‘unexplored’ sprawling all over the map. And the Mastodon won’t be much good as a guide if he’s got to think of ambushes. He’s going to be jolly useful as it is, and anyway we’ve promised him Bridget for a human sacrifice when the others come. It’s no good having battles and massacres as well.”

  “They thought I wasn’t old enough but I am,” said Bridget.

  Nancy considered, looking round from the camp over Goblin Creek and the marshes and island beyond them, and the wide Secret Water with the low-lying coast beyond it. It certainly did seem waste, but you couldn’t have much of a war with a solitary savage and all the Swallows set on peace. She glanced down at Titty, who was crouched over the drawing-board working away with her pen. Of course it was different from the lake in the north where, even when in bed with mumps, she had always set the tune for everybody.

  “Exploring’s going to be jolly good fun,” said Peggy.

  “Galoot,” said Nancy. “Of course it is. I’m only thinking. When’s Bridget going to be a human sacrifice?”

  “When we’ve done the map,” said John.

  “If the other savages agree,” said Susan. “He said he’d have to ask them, so you mustn’t count on it, Bridgie.”

  “He said their sacrifice was too skinny,” said Bridget.

  “Right,” said Nancy. “Exploration first.”

  “Good,” said John.

  “And it’s all right being friends with the Mastodon?” asked Titty, looking up from the map before taking another dip of ink.

  “Why not?” said Nancy. “Explorers meet savage chief. They make him presents. I only wish I’d thought of bringing some beads.”

  “Can’t do any more tonight,” said Titty at last, wiping her pen and putting it away.