Backwards and forwards Swallow scurried across the lake in the dark. The islands could not be far away.
Suddenly John stopped counting.
“Listen,” he said. “Trees. I can hear the wind in them. What’s that?” He flashed his torch over the side. There was the white splash of water breaking on a rock. The noise of wind in trees was close ahead.
“Let go the halyard,” called John. “Down with the sail. Grab the yard as it comes.”
Susan was as quick as she could be. She knew by John’s voice that there was no time to lose. The sail came down in a rush. She gathered it in as well as she could. Then she flashed her torch into the blackness ahead.
“There’s something close here,” she said.
Swallow drifted in smooth water. John put out the oars.
“It’s here,” said Susan. “Close here. Pull, pull your left. It’s a landing stage.”
Swallow bumped softly against wood.
“Hang on to it, whatever it is,” called John. He shipped his oars. Then he scrambled forward. The torch showed the black damp wooden beams of one of the landing stages used by the natives for their rowing boats.
“Hold your torch up, Susan,” he said. “I’m going ashore.”
Susan held up her torch. John was on the landing stage in a moment.
“All right now,” he said. “I’ve got the painter.” He lit his torch, and Susan saw him, as Swallow drifted back, standing on the landing stage and making fast the painter round a post.
“We’re all right here, anyhow,” he said. “Lucky for us not to hit that rock we passed. I wonder which island this is.”
He walked up the landing stage, lighting himself with his torch. Then he came back.
“There’s a notice which says, ‘Private. Landing Forbidden.’”
“What are we to do?” said Susan.
“Land,” said Captain John. “At least, land if we want to. The natives are all asleep anyhow. We’ll stay here until there’s a little light. There’s bound to be some light soon. Only duffers would try to get through the islands in dark as black as this.”
“What about Titty?” said Susan.
“Titty’s in camp. She’s got a tent. She’ll be all right. So are we now.”
Captain John was extremely happy. Now that the danger was over, he knew very well that they had as nearly as possible been duffers after all, racing about in the dark. And instead of being smashed on a rock here was Swallow snugly tied up to a landing stage. Where they were did not matter. Dawn would show that.
*
Susan said, “Roger, you’d better go to sleep.”
There was no answer. Roger was asleep already.
John came back into the boat.
“Look out you don’t wake him,” said Susan. John stepped carefully over the sleeping boy.
“There are two more blankets,” said Susan.
“I’m not going to sleep,” said John, making himself comfortable in the bottom of the boat. “You can.”
“I say, John,” whispered Susan a minute or two later.
Again there was no answer.
A few minutes after that she too was asleep.
*
The wind blew away the clouds and the stars shone out high over Swallow and her sleeping crew. The deep blue of the sky began to pale over the eastern hills. The islands clustered about Rio Bay became dark masses on a background no longer as dark as themselves. The colour of the water changed. It had been as black as the hills and the sky, and as these paled so did the lake. The dark islands were dull green and grey, and the rippled water was the colour of a pewter teapot.
*
When John woke it was still long before sunrise, but it was quite light enough for sailing. He woke with a start, and some shame at having slept. He was glad he had been the first to wake. He knew at once where they were, moored to the landing stage on one of the smaller islands at the northern end of Rio Bay. He tried to cast off and get the sail up without waking the others, but, as he moved, they stirred.
Roger yawned, and pulled himself up by the gunwale to look over the side. He just had one look and then, without saying anything, settled down to sleep again.
Susan woke as one wakes who has breakfast to get for a family.
“I say,” she said, “we could have started ages ago. It’s quite light.”
“Come on, then,” said John. “You take the mainsheet, while I set the sail. I didn’t want to wake you … but I’ve only just waked myself, really. It’s going to be another fine day, and the wind is the same.”
He unfastened the painter and put it once round the post at the end of the landing stage. Then he hoisted the sail. He had forgotten that it was reefed. It did not take a minute to shake out the reef. It was a great deal easier than tying it down in the dark. Then he hoisted the sail again and cast off. Swallow drifted backwards a few feet, and then gathered a breath of wind and began to sail. He came aft and took the tiller.
Susan blinked at the notice-board about landing being forbidden.
“We didn’t exactly land,” she said.
They tacked through between Rio and the islands. Rio Bay lay deserted as they had never seen it. No one was up. The houses had blinds in all their windows. Yachts lay at their moorings. The rowing boats of the natives lay drawn up on the beach. There was not a native to be seen.
“It won’t be sunrise for some time yet,” said John, looking up at the faint glow in the sky over the hills.
They sailed out into the open lake beyond the islands, and made a long board across to the farther side. Then, “Ready about,” and back again. Their second tack beyond the islands let them see into the narrow bay below Holly Howe. There was Holly Howe itself, the farmhouse, white among its yew trees and hollies, up on the hillside at the top of the sloping field. Mother and Vicky and Nurse were in there asleep. John looked at Susan, and Susan looked at John. Both had the same thought, but neither said anything. It was not an altogether comfortable thought. Still, they would soon be back at the camp on Wild Cat Island.
At last Susan said, “I hope to goodness Titty had the sense to go to sleep.”
“Bet she didn’t,” said John. “She wouldn’t want to, anyhow.”
They left the Peak of Darien astern. John saw the houseboat moored to its big buoy in Houseboat Bay, but it reminded him of his meeting with Captain Flint, so he looked the other way.
They could see Wild Cat Island now, and suddenly Susan said, “Titty’s awake. She’s got a most tremendous fire.”
A big column of smoke was lifting and blowing from the Island.
“Hullo,” said John. “There’s a boat. Why, it’s the Amazon.”
“Where?” said Susan.
“Over there. Starboard bow. By Cormorant Island. We shall fetch her on this tack.”
“It’s Amazon all right,” said Susan. “But there’s nobody in her. She must have broken loose from somewhere and drifted away.”
John watched carefully.
“She’s not drifting,” he said. “She’s at anchor. Perhaps the Amazons are asleep in her. Hurrah! Let’s capture her after all. We’ll get her anchor without waking them and tow her into harbour. Then when they wake they’ll be prisoners.”
“I don’t believe there’s anybody in her,” said Susan.
“Rubbish,” said John. “She couldn’t have got there and anchored herself.”
“Well, we’ll see in a minute,” said Susan.
John did not at first alter the Swallow’s course. That tack would bring her just to windward of the Amazon. Then he would be able to back down carefully with the oars to get hold of the anchor rope and take her in tow without waking the sleeping pirates. Then he changed his mind. It would be better to sail close under her stern to have a look into her. It would be silly to try to get their anchor if the Amazons were only pretending to be asleep.
“I’m sure there’s no one in her,” said Susan as they rushed towards the little anchored ship.
But just then a hand showed on the gunwale, and a moment later, just as they were passing under Amazon’s stern, the white face and rather draggled hair of Able-seaman Titty appeared over the transom.
Able-seaman Titty had thought out the proper thing to say. Something about “Report”, “Capture”, “Enemies”, and “Prize”. But the words went out of her head at the last minute, and all she actually said was, “I’ve got her.”
CHAPTER XXII
THE WHITE FLAG
CAPTAIN JOHN LET loose a hurrah that startled even himself and woke the sleeping Roger.
“Titty, Titty, how ever did you do it?” he said.
“Well done, Titty,” said Susan.
Roger sat up in the bottom of the boat. “Hullo, Titty,” he said, and then curled up and went to sleep again.
John jibed Swallow and then, bringing her to the wind, ran her alongside. Mate Susan scrambled forward and grabbed the gunwale of the Amazon.
“But where are the Amazons?” said John.
“They’ve got our camp. They’ve got Wild Cat Island,” said Titty. “I couldn’t help it. I was asleep, and there was an owl, and I thought it was you, and I lit the lights, and they came into the harbour. Then they went to the camp and I took Amazon.”
“Who cares about the camp?” cried John. “It was whoever could capture the other’s ship. And now we’ve got her. And I thought we’d failed. Swallow is flagship after all. Well done, Titty.”
Titty tried to tell her story, how she had pushed out in the dark, how she had tried to anchor near the opposite shore and had found only when day came that she had anchored by Cormorant Island instead. Owls … the noise of rowing … men quarrelling … the leading light going out … it all seemed a muddle.
“The main thing,” said Captain John, “is that Amazon is our prize. Now we’ll sail over with the whole fleet. We’ll make a landing in the face of the enemy and retake the island. Or we’ll call upon them to surrender, and if they won’t we’ll keep the sea for days and days until they starve. But they’ll have to give in. Hullo, what are they doing?”
Susan, Titty, and John stared at Wild Cat Island. Roger woke up again and stared too.
A large blanket, flapping heavily in the wind, was being slowly hoisted up the lighthouse tree. They could see the Amazons holding the ropes below it. It was a big, stout blanket and, though the wind was fresh, it could not blow it out square, but kept it flapping in slow, disheartened flaps.
“It’s one of our blankets,” said Susan.
“It’s a white flag,” said Titty. “They’re surrendering.”
“It isn’t very white,” said Roger sleepily.
“It’s meant to be,” said Titty. “I know it’s a white flag.”
“We’ll soon find out,” said Captain John. “I say, Mister Mate, will you sail the prize or shall I?”
“You’d better,” said Susan, “because of the centreboard.”
“Right,” said the captain. “Roger stays with you in Swallow. Titty sails in Amazon. Look out, Titty, I’m coming aboard.”
He climbed from one boat into the other.
“Hang on to Swallow’s painter while I get sail on Amazon,” he said.
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty.
Mate Susan let go of Amazon’s gunwale, and Swallow drifted astern at the end of her painter.
“Where’s the pirate flag?” asked Captain John, looking up the mast to see that all was clear for setting sail.
“They’d left it at the masthead,” said Titty. “I hauled it down as soon as it was light and I saw it. I didn’t think of it before.”
“You did quite right,” said Captain John. “While she’s a prize she mustn’t fly her own flag. She ought to fly ours, but we haven’t a spare one.”
Amazon’s sail was a standing lug, just the same as Swallow’s, so that John had no trouble in setting it. He began hauling in the anchor rope.
“Now then, Able-seaman, will you take the tiller to sail her across? She’s your prize really, you know. Are you ready, Mister Mate? Shall we cast off Swallow?”
“Ready,” said Susan. “Roger, run forward to coil down the painter.”
Roger, fully awake now, hurried to the bows. Titty let go of Swallow’s painter. Roger hauled it in hand over hand and coiled it down. Swallow’s sail filled and she began to move. John hauled on the Amazon’s anchor rope until it was straight up and down.
“Ready, Titty?”
“Ready.”
“She’s sailing now. Keep her full.” John hauled up the anchor as fast as he could. Amazon began to sail, but slipped away to leeward.
“Centreboard’s not down,” said John. “She’ll sail all right as soon as it is. She hasn’t got a keel like Swallow.”
He lowered the centreboard and Amazon stopped slipping sideways and her wake lengthened astern of her.
“All right, Titty?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said. “I mean, aye, aye, sir.” With her mouth a little open and her eyes earnestly on the sail she was steering Amazon for the first time. It was no wonder that she used the wrong words.
In the fresh morning wind the fleet moved towards Wild Cat Island, Swallow a little ahead.
Mate Susan called across the water, “Shall I make straight for the harbour? I can do it easily on this tack.”
“No,” called Captain John. “We’d better sail to the look-out point, and ask them what they mean by that blanket.”
“I’m certain it’s a white flag,” said Titty, without shifting her eyes from the sail.
“We’ll make sure of it, anyway,” said Captain John. “They might try to rush the Amazon as we bring her in.”
At the look-out place, under the great flapping blanket that hung on the lighthouse tree where the lantern had hung last night, were the Amazon pirates. They were not standing still. They seemed to be dancing.
“What are they doing?” said Captain John.
“That’s Captain Nancy, the one who’s jumping up and down,” said Titty. “Perhaps she’s dancing with rage.” Titty could not afford to take more than a short look out of the corner of her eye. She was sailing their ship, and she wanted them to see that she could do it. She wanted to leave a wake as straight as theirs.
Susan in the Swallow went about before reaching the island. Amazon passed under her stern.
“It’s deep water right under the look-out place,” said John. “You can sail her close to it. She’ll lose the wind, but she’ll find it again the other side. She’s got enough way on her to carry her past.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Titty.
The Amazons on the look-out place seemed to be beckoning them on. “Hurry up,” they shouted.
Titty sailed close under the point, and John shouted up to the Amazons, “Do you surrender?”
Nancy Blackett shouted back, “We do. We jolly well do. But buck up.”
“Do be quick,” shouted Peggy.
“No trickery,” shouted John.
“Honest Pirate,” shouted Nancy.
“Honest Injun too?” said John doubtfully.
“Honest Injun,” shouted Nancy. “Honest anything you like. But don’t waste any more time. Bring her to the landing-place.”
“We’ll take her into port,” said Captain John.
“The landing-place is nearer.”
“She’s our prize,” called John, “and we’ll take her to the harbour.”
Already Amazon had passed with flapping sail through the sheltered water under the point. Now she had the wind again, and was sailing fast across the channel between the island and the eastern shore of the lake.
“Close-hauled, Titty,” said Captain John.
“Close-hauled it is,” said Able-seaman Titty, bringing Amazon nearer to the wind. “But what are they in such a hurry about?”
“I don’t know,” said Captain John. “Don’t stint her. We’ll race Susan for the harbour. She’s beating up the other side.”
But Swallow had too good a s
tart and was sailing in the open lake. When Titty brought her prize round the rocks at the southern end of the island, Swallow was already there. Susan had taken down her sail and was waiting with oars out, just outside the entrance to the harbour.
“It’s all right,” shouted John. “You can go in. They’ve surrendered. They’re in an awful hurry about something. We’ll go in together.”
Susan pulled with one oar and backwatered with the other, turned Swallow round, and paddled her in towards the harbour.
“DO YOU SURRENDER?”
“Let me row Amazon in,” said Titty. “I got her out in the dark last night.”
“Look here, Titty, can you see the marks? The wind’s exactly right. You can sail her in. I’ll lower the sail at the right moment. You needn’t think about anything but keeping the marks one behind the other.”
“I’ll try,” said Titty, and steered straight in.
“Don’t take any notice of me,” said John. “Keep the marks together.” Just as they shot in among the rocks he lowered the sail and pulled up the centreboard. “Keep your eye on the marks. That’s right. Look out for Swallow. Well done!”
Just as Swallow grounded on the beach in the little harbour, Amazon slid quietly in and grounded close beside her.
The Amazons were waiting on the beach. They seemed altogether friendly. Peggy Blackett pulled Swallow up, and Nancy Blackett did the same for Amazon. But Captain John was taking no risks.