I won’t go far out, he said, and the others said the same. They saw Bill off in his car, and watched him going carefully down the bumpy way to join the rough-and-ready road that led to the town.
Then they went to get the boat. Bill had left it out on the rocks, in its hiding-place. The children had not discovered why he liked to keep it there, but they imagined that he did not want it stolen when he was away from the place. They had to swim out to it, wrapping their dry clothes in an oil-skin bag that Bill lent them for the purpose. Philip towed it behind him.
They reached the rocks and made their way over them to the flattish stretch where the boat was hauled up, well out of reach of the waves. They undid the oil-skin bag and changed into dry things. They threw their bathing-suits into the boat and then pulled her down to the water.
The sea was deep around the rocks, and the boat slid neatly in, with hardly a splash. The children piled into her, and the two boys took the oars.
With a little trouble they rowed the big boat away from the rocks and out into open water. Then they faced the task of putting up the sail without Bill Smugs to help them.
It ought to be easy enough to us, panted Jack, tugging at various ropes. We did it yesterday by ourselves, you know.
But yesterday Bill had shouted directions at them. Now there was no-one to help them if they got into a muddle. Still, they did get the sail up after a time. Dinah was nearly knocked overboard, but just managed to save herself. She was very angry.
You did that on purpose, Philip, she said to her brother, who was still struggling with different ropes. Just you apologise! Bill said there wasn’t to be any hanky-panky or silly tricks on board.
Shut up, said Philip, getting suddenly caught in a rope that seemed determined to hang him. Jack, help me.
Take the tiller, Dinah, ordered Jack. I’ll help old Tufty. Dinah! Did you hear me? Take the tiller and let me help Philip.
But it was Dinah who, suddenly seeing that Philip was indeed in difficulties, came to his rescue and untangled him.
Thanks, said Philip. Blow these ropes! I seem to have undone too many. Is the sail all right?
It seemed to be. The wind filled it and the boat began to rush along. It was fun. The children felt important at being alone, managing the boat all by themselves. It was, after all, a very big boat for children to sail. Jack looked across the water to where the Isle of Gloom loomed up. One day he would go there land on it look around and goodness knows what he might find! A picture of the Great Auk arose in his mind and in his excitement he gybed the boat round and the sail swung across, almost knocking off the heads of the crouching children.
Idiot! said Philip indignantly. Here, let me take the tiller. We shall all be in the water if you play about like that.
Sorry, said Jack. I was just thinking of something how I’d go off in Jo-Jo’s boat. When do you think we could, Philip? In two of three days’ time?
I should think we could sail Jo-Jo’s boat all right by then, said Philip. It’s easy enough once you’ve got the knack and are quick enough. I’m getting to know the feel of the wind, and its strength really feeling at home in the boat. Poor Lucy-Ann never will, though. Look how green she’s gone.
I’m all right, said Lucy-Ann valiantly. They had run into a choppy patch, and poor Lucy-Ann’s tummy didn’t like it. But nothing would ever persuade her to let the others go without her, even if she knew she was going to feel sick all the time. Lucy-Ann had plenty of pluck.
The children furled the sail after a time and got out the oars. They carefully remembered their promise and did not go very far away. They thought it would be a good thing to practise rowing for a while, too.
So all of them took turns, and soon they could pull the boat along well, and make it go any way they liked, even without the rudder.
Then they put up the sail once more and sailed to shore, feeling very proud of themselves. When they came near the shore they saw Bill Smugs waving to them. He had already come back.
They sailed in to the beach, and pulled in the boat. Good! said Bill. I was watching you out at sea. You did very well. Have another go tomorrow.
Oh, thanks, said Jack. I suppose we couldn’t have a try this afternoon too, could we? Dinah and Lucy-Ann wouldn’t be able to, because they’ve got to do something for Aunt Polly. But Philip and I could come.
The girls knew that Jack wanted to see if he and Philip were able to manage the boat by themselves, in preparation for going out alone in Jo-Jo’s boat. So they said nothing, much as they would have liked to join in, and Bill Smugs said yes, the boys could go along that afternoon if they liked.
I shan’t come, he said. I’m going to have a go at my wireless set. It’s gone wrong.
Bill had a marvellous radio, the finest the boys had ever seen. It was set at the back of the old hut, and there Was no station that Bill could not get. He would not allow the boys to tamper with it at all.
Well, we’ll be along this afternoon, then, said Jack, pleased. It’s awfully nice of you to lend us your boat like this, Bill. Really it is.
It’s a pleasure, said Bill Smugs, and grinned. Kiki imitated him.
It’s a pleasure, it’s a pleasure, it’s a pleasure, poor old Kiki, wipe your feet, never mind, never mind, it’s a pleasure.
Oh that reminds me, said Jack, remembering his queer experience of the night before. Bill, listen to this. He went off into a long account of his adventure on the cliff with Jo-Jo, and Bill Smugs listened with the greatest attention.
So you saw lights? he said. Out at sea and on the cliff. Very interesting. I don’t wonder you wanted to look into the matter. Jo-Jo apparently had the same curiosity about them. Well, if I may give you a bit of advice, it’s this don’t get up against Jo-Jo more than you can help. I don’t much like the sound of him. He sounds a dangerous sort of fellow.
Oh, he’s just a bit mad, and hates children, but he’s very stupid and I don’t think he’d really dare to do us much harm, said Philip. We’ve had him for years.
Have you really? said Bill, interested. Well, well I expect your people would have a hard job to get anyone in Jo-Jo’s place if he went. All the same beware of him.
The boys went off with the two girls. Philip was rather inclined to laugh at Bill’s warning, but Jack took it to heart. He had not forgotten his fear the night before when the black man had caught him.
I think Bill’s right somehow, thought Jack, with a little shiver. Jo-Jo could be a very dangerous sort of fellow.
Chapter 16
STRANGE DISCOVERIES
The next three days the children worked hard at rowing and sailing, until they were perfectly at home in Bill’s boat, and could handle it almost as well as Bill. He was pleased with them.
I must say I do like to see children sticking to things, even if it means hard work, he said. Even old Kiki has stuck to it too, sitting on the sail, overbalancing half the time, but not dreaming of letting you go by yourselves. And as for Lucy-Ann, she’s the best of the lot, because she has had to fight sea-sickness a good part of the time.
That afternoon, having first seen that Jo-Jo was safely in the yard at the back of the house, pumping up water from the deep well there, the children went to examine Jo-Jo’s boat carefully, to see if they could possibly handle it themselves.
They stood and looked at it bobbing on the water. It was bigger than Bill’s, but not very much. They felt certain they would be all right in it.
It’s a pity Kiki can’t row, said Jack. She could take the third pair of oars and we could get along fine.
Fine, said Kiki. Fine. God save the King.
Idiot, said Philip affectionately. He was as fond of Kiki as Jack and Lucy-Ann were, and the bird went to him readily. I say, Freckles I wonder when Jo-Jo is going to town again. I’m longing to try my hand at the boat; aren’t you?